Barbara, thank you for the excellent ideas this morning. They opened something in my fevered imagination, and I'm just going to follow the feeling and wait until the words start to flow. I think I'm starting to fall in love with Visitors all over again.
Every night - she sends her mind out to where he is and takes the reading of his heart. And every morning she wakes to the echo of his presence. She breaths in the morning air, already wet and heavy with moisture. Then she stretches across her bed, across the damp and twisted sheets. His presence slowly fades from her awareness until he is gone. Her baby is awake in the crib, talking to himself, entertaining himself. In the bright smear of morning, she gets out of bed to feed the baby. She greets him as she nears the crib, soft and gurgling as the sounds he makes. She places her long-fingered hands under his arms and around his back and neck, then lifts him up and out of the crib.
Bob ;-)
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