“He hands the page to his wife and looks across the room to Colleen's picture, listening to her absence, breathing deeply the air she can't share.”

“A man who kisses his wife when he goes into a clinch with her, should look deeply into her eyes also.”

“If he closed his eyes he could dwell in the circuit of air that had once held her, he could hold his breath and be inside her again, within the close and burning borders of her- she stood here, washed her hair in this sink, wrote upon this wall, ate roasted chicken at this table. There was no place he could enter where she had not also been, her echoes hanging in the air like pages hung to dry. No place that did not suppurate in her absence, which was not ringed with the light of her old selves, like film burned with a cigarette.”

“Isi, I’m trying to say that you’ve been… no, you’re so, you’re–” He stopped."You are,” he said. His hand found hers, and he held her finger tightly, as though he did not dare to do any more than hold her one hand, and look at her, and breathe deeply.”

“Alexander tilted his head and kissed her deeply on the lips. He let go of her hands, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. They kissed as if in a fever... they kissed as if the breath were leaving their bodies.”

“She looked across the room at Will , she wasn't sure why, only to find that he was looking back at her. They both glanced hastily away.”