Metanoia

She took the book and went away from the kitchen where the others stayed, lighting up spliffs with peppercorn-scented candles. After 30 minutes she had gone, he felt like looking for her. He found her in the living room, crouching on the blue sofa, her left leg dangling. She was gone from their physical space – the kitchen -but also there alone, she had gone from her abitual, inner space – her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth half-open, she did not turn to see who entered the room on the creaks of his steps.

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