Once again at
Eve's, Louisa says, "I'm frightened stiff. You told me that except for
sharks, which we are not likely to see, everything down there is very
deliberately trying to scare us, darling. There's nothing, really nothing, to
that haunted sea
Hear from the waters under the keel
A sound that is not wave or foam
Nor do they only hear, but feel
quiver, where they go or come,
They will be silent; they have heard
Out of the infinite of the soul
An incommunicable word;
are as lovers who
Over an infinite brightness lean:
'It is Atlantis!' all their speech;
'To lost Atlantis we have been.'
the Pool," from Collected Poems. © 1953 by Conrad Aiken. Reprinted by
permission of Oxford University Press, Inc.
At 7:30 a.m.
Louisa clips open my bedroom door with a sturdy toe. She carries a tray with
steaming coffee, juice, eggs, toast and jam for two.
raining so hard I let you sleep. But the team is here. Coles says this storm
will clear things."
I eat, then begin
to dress hurriedly. I stoop to pick up a scarf that has slid under the dresser.
A sudden whip of pain folds around the small of my back.