|
Marta is sitting on the floor of his apartment when he comes home,
with the notebook and a pencil.
She looks up and smiles at him.
He sits down beside her on the ragged rug, overcome
for a moment to find himself here, with her, her
fingers drawing the four lines, her hair so close to
his eyes, her face relaxed and intent.
She draws her X in the center square of the board, and
hands him the pencil.
Should he mark the corner
square, he asks himself, striving for a look of serious
concentration, or the
edge?
|
