“If no words come, you can always give him the finger.”

“He surged upward and paused at her entrance. “Look at me, Alexa.” Half drugged, she opened her eyes and gazed at the man she loved with every part of her being, waiting for him to claim her, waiting to take anything he could give. “It’s always been you.” He paused as if to be sure she heard and understood the words. Intensity gleamed within amber depths. He gripped her fingers, as if trying to speak beyond words. “And it will always be you.”

“Truth has nothing to do with words. Truth can be likened to the bright moon in the sky. Words, in this case, can be likened to a finger. The finger can point to the moon’s location. However, the finger is not the moon. To look at the moon, it is necessary to gaze beyond the finger.”

“And then one day he realised that of course he was always staring at his hand when he wrote, was always watching the pen as it moved along, gripped by his fingers, his fingers floating there in front of his eyes just above the words, above that single white sheet, just above these words i’m writing now, his fingers between him and all that, like another person, a third person, when all along you thot it was just the two of you talking and he suddenly realized it was the three of them, handling it on from one to the other, his hand translating itself, his words slipping thru his fingers into the written world. You.”

“He doesn’t look very smart,” Diesel said. “He’s not even giving me the finger.” “Can monkey’s do that?” Hal asked. Carl gave him the finger. “Cool!” Hal said.”

“What on earth can you do on this earth but catch at whatever comes near you, with both your fingers, until your fingers are broken?”