TURNER BRINGS HER CHIN UP and looks into her eyes.

“You’ve waited for this all your life?”

He closes in on an unseen boundary, a line he has drawn but keeps shuffling over. It’s been almost a year since he did the same on a rickshaw in India when he first touched the electricity within her.

“What more could you ask for?”

She wants to give herself up and untie strings of consciousness, but they are bound like ropes onto a pier. So much is earmarked for Paolo and travels that little time remains free. Weekends at home are shelters for resting or playing cat and mouse with faces she can’t bring to mind here, on a train platform, with her face in this man’s hand. So she contains herself, not knowing how to hand her self out in small portions.