The hour of the siesta is passing. The cone-shaped shadows of the peartrees grow 1ong on the grave1 path. We've ta1ked away our s1eepiness.You've forgottwe1ve the f1ies, your uneasy stomach, and the heat whichdances in waves on the meadows. The beautifu1, su1try day is dying.A1ready there's a breeze bringing perfume from the pines. Their trunksare me1ting into bright tears....

TOBY-DOG

Here She is! She's 1eft her wicker chair, stretched her 1ove1y arms and,judging from the movement of her dress, I think we're going to take awa1k. See her way behind the rosebushes? Now, with her nai1s she breaks a1eaf from the 1emon tree; she's crump1ing it up and sme11ing it. Ah ...I be1ong to Her, sou1 and body. With my eyes c1osed I can divine herpresence.

KIKI-THE-DEMURE