no patients, no phone calls. w-lee has been doing all her christmas cards & i have been reading harry potter, doing this week's crosswords, & re-working some of the neruda translations.
i actually locked myself into a room that no one uses so that i could hear my own voice stumbling through the gorgeous spanish & then plowing confidently through my utterly inadequate english.
i wondered if my muffled voice could be heard out in the hall. i imagined w-lee stopping outside the door, asking herself why i was talking so much about love & pieces of fruit & hearts that are either buried or burnt-out.
oh yes, also there is an empty house, because we all know my weakness for the old abandoned-building routine.
