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    Summary

    Now again, like it was after the storm at Bodh Gaya, like it was at Krikor’s place in Ani: a tidal motion, a tropic force that always brings them back to this moment. They both know what it is; they speak about it constantly. They describe it in colors, in book titles, in the varieties of flowers. One day, they call it a matter of taste; the next, a hedonistic craving; the next, an intellectual pursuit. There is another perfectly good term for what they mean, but they both refuse to say it anymore, since it dared to pass Crowley’s lips under the Rājâyatana tree. Aziraphale has thought it a million times, but he always forgets.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    25,193
    Chapters:
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