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Summary
They do not see it — the haze, the blurriness of time — but feel it creeping down their necks, clawlike. Young things happen fast upon each other; writhe, tenderlimbed, tender; the way happens a quick sleep in the dark of another’s hold when you fall and they catch your breath in theirs. There in the night such things are permitted, and holy.
[On lakewater, and what lives beneath, 1859]