Bridge Is A Game For The Undivided

I Was Thinking, I Could Turn Him Into A Fly And Drop Him Into A Spider's Web And Watch Him Tangled And Helpless And Struggling, Shut Into The Body Of A Dying Buzzing Fly; I Could Wish Him Dead Until He Died.i Could Fasten Him To A Tree And Keep Him There Until He Grew Into The Trunk And Bark Grew Over His Mouth. If He Was Under The Ground I Could Walk Over Him Stamping My Feet.

I Remember That I Stood On The Library Steps Holding My Books And Looking For A Minute At The Soft Hinted Green In The Branches Against The Sky And Wishing, As I Always Did, That I Could Walk Home Across The Sky Instead Of Through The Village.

I Was Pretending That I Did Not Speak Their Language; On The Moon We Spoke A Soft, Liquid Tongue, And Sang In The Starlight, Looking Down On The Dead Dried World.

She Walked Quickly Around Her One-room Apartment. After More Than Four Years In This One Home She Knew All Its Possibilities, How It Could Put On A Sham Appearance Of Warmth And Welcome When She Needed A Place To Hide In, How It Stood Over Her In The Night When She Woke Suddenly, How It Could Relax Itself Into A Disagreeable Unmade, Badly-put-together State, Mornings Like This, Anxious To Drive Her Out And Go Back To Sleep.

I Was Wondering About My Eyes; One Of My Eyes--the Left--saw Everything Golden And Yellow And Orange, And The Other Eye Saw Shades Of Blue And Grey And Green; Perhaps One Eye Was For Daylight And The Other Was For Night. If Everyone In The World Saw Different Colors From Different Eyes There Might Be A Great Many New Colors Still To Be Invented.