LADY BAEVERA
I stayed in bed all day. Not because I was sore, or tired, but because I had no zeal to move.
No desire to do anything, except lie there and replay the night before again and again, and all the new stirrings it unlocked in me. Even when I should not.
It was a one-time thing. A night that never happened.
Yet as the sun dipped slowly down the sky and the evening drew near, I found myself dreading it.
I may despise evenings and never look forward to them, but I don’t dread them. I simply resigned myself to them.
I had always seen my nights as performance, nothing more. I became an actress in another skin, going to the stage, and slipping into the role; behaving, acting, detaching. When morning came, I shed the role, bathed the night off, returned to my room, and called i
