THE CATHE IMAGINED the walls caving in on him, breaking silence and sleeplessness into thunder that filled his ears. Helplessly, he buried his head
in his palms. In the half-light, he could see Maria’s picture on the wall, smiling, with Dearest, always, written across the heart. And now, many hours after they had left the small, yellow
bulb it building (Here there would be no eyes prying on us. Come. Without hesitation, without fear) he could hear his heart beating in his chest. And looking at the wall, he met her eyes (You have
beautiful eyes, do you know it? She had laughed in childlike innocence) and felt them seeking out his heart.
He fumbled for a cigarette in the pocket of his shirt hanging on the bed’s headboard. He found one but could not light it for he had misplaced his match
