The second month at Camp Paradise was the month of the empty bed. The bare mattress on the metal springs to the right of where Ferguson continued to sleep, the bed of the now absent Noah, and every day Ferguson asked himself if they would ever see each other again. Cousins for a year and a half, and now cousins no more. an aunt who had married an uncle, and now married no more, with the uncle living on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, where he could no longer be with his boy. Everything solid for a time, and then the sun comes up one morning and the world begins to melt.
Source: 4 3 2 1 by Paul Auster »
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from 4 3 2 1 by Paul Auster
When I talk to Mother, she looks vaguely at someone else,
as though they were the speaker.
But she gets jealous and sarcastic
from Watching Mother Disappear & Other Poems by Toni Mergentime Levi