Male friendship -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
They had been together a month. There was David’s face fallen away on
its side. Tom could see the slight strained tendons of his neck. His
sleepy hair was a mood apart from the floor it touched like a mist
thrown from the alert earth in the morning. His pipe had slipped and
cast its ashes. Tom wondered if he was closer to his friend after a
month, and how far closer he could grow. This the question he followed.
As if in search of it, he leaned agilely forward, immersed, and picked
up the pipe next to David’s hand. He was again erect in his chair. He
held the pipe before him. Not seeing it. He was very awake thinking.
Suddenly he looked at his hands, amazed. They were empty. The pipe was
in his mouth. On his face came an expression of motion, as if he wanted
to get away. He thrust the pipe back of him, on the tabaret. Again,
rest came to his features. They no longer strained in the symbol of the
need to move. He was in contemplation. His lips parted and pursed at a
faster tempo than his breathing. His eyes hardened. He took a long
draught of air as if his sluggish breathing had half stifled him. Once
more he breathed at his wonted measure.
He looked down at David, for the first time naturally: as if David were
this expected object at his feet, and not some threshold beyond them....
They had been after all a mere month together. Why was he counting time
with David, when elsewise he was glad to take his days in gross, and the
thought of the years like steps of a painful stairway to be mounted
toward the flat respite of death? In this lingering with David and his
hurry elsewhere, there was a discord, a whirling that made him dizzy.
One part of him moved faster than the rest. He turned and turned around.
Tom’s eyes were seeking again. He must hold on to something to stop this
spinning. His jaw dropped an instant, before he had caught himself up.
There were his hands once more athwart his chest: in them David’s pipe.
Tom jumped from his chair. Carefully, however: David was sound asleep.
It was a day of clouds low-scudding over the City.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account