Rough Strife [antikvár]

w asn't it miraculous, that she could feel this way after so long? Desire, she meant, and its fulfillment. Ivan lay collapsed on her, slipping out in a protracted slowness. She made no effort to keep him. In a moment she would open her eyes to the bedroom ceiling, an off-white marked by grainy, old imperfections of the surface. She would repossess identity, a structure chiseled by circumstance. Till then she would yield to this larger existence: the breadth of oceans, the reach of continents! A dupe, of course, yet what a fine geographical extravaganza, sponsored by Ivan. Caroline smiled. He moved, and left her. They lay side by side for a while, till Ivan sat up and announced, "I have to go jogging." Caroline sighed. "I suppose it's only fair that you should exercise other parts as well. Legs." "It's heart and lungs, actually." "I see. So you'll have taken care of the reproductive, circulatory and respiratory systems. Very thorough. Then you can come home and eat, for the digestive." "Come on," he pleaded, and aimed a feinting blow at her jaw. She stretched flat so he could climb over her to