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Show Moon -156 for a brief moment the power to restore him to himself, but who I am wouldn't matter at all. No matter what Td done, Td be an impersonal transaction, slid underneath the brass bars of a teller's window. "Thank you." A polite nod. "You're welcome. Come again." It is a mistake, I think, to expect anything else with such men. Such men? I sound bigoted, unfair. But I think I'm onto something I need to understand. God knows, the world seems to need these men of much authority, these men who transact and design; the world rewards and honors them. But for some, perhaps the only thing keeping them from becoming Hitlers are a few humbling failures in bed, a little helplessness in the face of women. Men who long for power try to keep us someplace harmless and small, to keep us as children. It's a mistake to try to get their attention, to insist on being seen, to insist that they be real for us. I think I can say thank you to John, impersonally, but sincerely. He has released me from something. I don't need to look down this road any longer. I think of deep ruts in the gravel and flowers crushed like bruises. I feel for just a moment something like love, though it wouldn't be the love James thought he wanted. I stand up, stroke a wisp of damp gray hair from John's forehead. He's a handsome man, with traces of young confusion in his eyes. He smiles, shakes his head a little. I say, "It's fine. You've given me something much better." I pick up the yellow rose he gave me, though I probably won't keep it for long. Then I leave, ready now to check out of my hotel and move on. CONVERGENCE |