6
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Dancers in the SkyRAKE IN HAND, Sabian traced furrows in the sand, soft curves following the sides of the big rocks pushed into place with his runner’s winch. The winds swept the valley since the start of May, forcing him to draw again and again his sinuous figures.
Blanche stopped before two basaltic stones streaked with ochre forming a portal. He didn’t seem to mind the tedious work, but the full-length outfit he wore in this scorching heat must be uncomfortable.
“You don’t go to the old city today?” she asked him, her grown-up voice purring.
“It’s too hot to paint. As for you, don’t you have studies to do?”
“It’s too hot to study,” she replied, tit for tat.
She didn’t mention that her room air-conditioner was operational.
Those who looked less functional were
