Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. ‘Me, I have a name. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. Kevin Chen, Martin’s father, was equally stately, his dark brown eyes bright with the fire of extreme intelligence. He felt himself collapse heavily onto her naked body, still inside her. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish.
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