Persistence in spite of indifference.
After he'd read the poem and tucked the creases piece of paper back in his pocket and bowed to the polite claps, Basel said to Tambourin at their table:
"I thought you were all done with that. I thought that was over and done with, and so were you."
He smiled in his whistful while and sipped his chai and smiled some more.
"Nothing ever goes away," he said, "you should know that by now, whippet."
"Sure." She said, and went for more coffee to burn her insides. He was the lover. She was just a mad wild lion.
<< old letters >>