She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. This is your moment. The dance itself was anticlimactic, with teenagers trying their best to look the part of adult sophisticates on the dance floor. Stanley poured wine. He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence. Instead, they lived a Bohemian existence, moving from patron to patron, city to city. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction.
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