Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. "Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question. Grandmothers and grandfathers and uncles and aunts … to love and to coddle lonely little girls. And all the third act is love-sick music.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 09-09-2024 01:48:39
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