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Show 137 Roger nudged her-did she want a Coke? She had to restrain herself to be civil: no, not now, she whispered. She squeezed his hand so that he wouldn't be angry at the irritation she had not been able to keep from her voice; then immediately dropped back into those images dancing before her. Back into that other life, that other element. For it was like passing through an air lock, from one element to another, like going from the sea to the land. In this clear element, she moved with the forms and images in an intense, natural harmony. They unfolding her, in a continuous, vibrant flow, opening that interior life to be lived. So that interior life breathed, powerfully asserting itself, moving of its own through the intensely distinct, sunny warmth of its being. When it was over, the figures and forms vanishing back into that white faceless screen, with the veil sweeping together, the lights coming on, she sat unmoving in the seat for a moment. Satisfied, that life which had taken over, which had asserted itself in her, retreating now back into herself. Back into the watery depths of her. "That was some picture," Roger said. "Yes. Yes, I really enjoyed that." She was content with him now. Standing, she slipped onto his arm, taking his elbow with her other hand, fitting her fingers to it as if it were an old familiar glove. A welcome fit. They crowded toward the exit with the other young people, they were almost all young people-and moving slowly ahead, she suddenly felt the collective youth in the faces around them. They were, after all, just people. Young people, like Roger and she. She was not threatened by them now; rather, she was a part of them-the couples all on their |