Perhaps It Is Better To Wake Up

She Turned Her Face Seaward To Gather In An Impression Of Space And Solitude, Which The Vast Expanse Of Water, Meeting And Melting With The Moonlit Sky, Conveyed To Her Excited Fancy. As She Swam She Seemed To Be Reaching Out For The Unlimited In Which To Lose Herself.

She Was Still Under The Spell Of Her Infatuation. She Had Tried To Forget Him, Realizing The Inutility Of Remembering. But The Thought Of Him Was Like An Obsession, Ever Pressing Itself Upon Her. It Was Not That She Dwelt Upon Details Of Their Acquaintance, Or Recalled In Any Special Or Peculiar Way His Personality; It Was His Being, His Existence, Which Dominated Her Thought, Fading Sometimes As If It Would Melt Into The Mist Of The Forgotten, Reviving Again With An Intensity Which Filled Her With An Incomprehensible Longing.

I Wonder If Anyone Else Has An Ear So Tuned And Sharpened As I Have, To Detect The Music, Not Of The Spheres, But Of Earth, Subtleties Of Major And Minor Chord That The Wind Strikes Upon The Tree Branches. Have You Ever Heard The Earth Breathe?

She Had All Her Life Long Been Accustomed To Harbor Thoughts And Emotions Which Never Voiced Themselves… They Belonged To Her Her And Were Her Own, And She Entertained The Conviction That She Had A Right To Them And They They Concerned No One But Herself.

I Trust It Will Not Be Giving Away Professional Secrets To Say That Many Readers Would Be Surprised, Perhaps Shocked, At The Questions Which Some Newspaper Editors Will Put To A Defenseless Woman Under The Guise Of Flattery.