He had built a comfortable, velvet-padded cradle inside the tiny room, from which he could contemplate and observe the stars and planets in quiet soli...ude. He used it rarely after he married my mother and even less after I was born. To me it was a place of refuge from the endless bustle of our great house. Occasionally my father would join me and, nestled snugly together, we would talk. It was of sorcery that we most often spoke. “No my daughter,” he would say kindly, shaking his head. “‘T is. He is caressing her face. She can hear him. ‘You’ll be alright. Just hang on.’ Spider’s webs of lightning dance across her mind’s eye and she smells the man, feels his strength flowing into her, feels the core of his resolve pulling her from the cold grasp of night. She has never known such peace. ________________________________ And he is there. The room is full of light. Mountains float above pale mist as in a Chinese landscape. But the smell, disinfectant? Not sage covered hills. Beige. More

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