Rain and wind knocked open the shutters and I rose and closed them and dried my feet and got into bed again.
Floor tiles had chilled me.
Rain cuffed roof and sides of the house... I heard the surf growing wilder, sloshing over rocks, climbing the lower cliffs, rising and falling onto itself with a hiss.
I straightened my hair on my pillow, knowing I had hours to wait: I said, you’ve seen a lot of storms, sleep. Your island isn’t in danger. But, nothing could keep me from thinking of his boat and its struggle. I named off members of his crew. I named their families.
Phaon’s cousin was with him—a wretched re-initiation, after those hideous days on the raft.
I heard Anaktoria and Gyrinno talking in the next room.
I thought of the madman, living with Alcaeus, walking about with him: I’ll make something of him, Alcaeus had said to me, the face revealing that his madness had not left him.
Joy and exaltation are the triumphs...
today is the imminence...
even shadows have their fire...