It , was , still , dark , the , first , time , she , took , him , home. He , did , take , note , though , of , the , street , number. His , street , number , too , in , the , city , nearby. A , little , later , that , new , August , morning , pressed , for , introductions. Insistent , the , twitter , and , flutter , issues , of , birdcage , hanging , just , outside. Her , bedroom , was , composed. It , felt , to , him , like , he , had , been , waking , up , beside , her , all , his , life. The , warm , spoon , of , her , body , assured , him , he , belonged. Hard , to , believe , he , would , have , to , peel , away , in , under , an , hour. They , hold , hands , even , more , times , lying , together , elsewhere , watching , the , ceiling. They , take , delight , in , the , size , of , their , thumbs , the , shape , of , his , and , her , thumbnails , held , up , side , by , side , tending , to , claim , an , uncanny , match. They , still , laugh , getting , back , to , their , lives , in , clothes. Makes , it , easy , and , sweet , and , sorrow-free , when , they , will , again , have , to , part. It , is , always , all-weather , sunny , whenever , they , meet , however , fleet , the , flashes , of , time , without , end , on , every , street , in , some , fastfood , wherever , it , is , they , should , be , folding , and , unfolding , (the , sheets , are , left , premium , duly , signed , with , the , names , flowing , both , beginning , with , “Rose”).
Rosendo M. Makabali is a technical writer in a government office and the employees cooperative.