Martin came to the stage from his section, his own violin in hand. One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others. The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. ’ He quirked an eyebrow. Sheila bellowed, a great wail of a sound from deep in her belly, flinging her tremendous weight towards him. ” “But don’t you see how I must stand to you? Don’t you see how it bars us from being lovers—You can’t—at first.
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