Luke Watson gave a sigh of satisfaction as he surveyed his little village at the back of the garden . It was pleasingly correct in every detail. Little people paraded in front of stores displaying wares of every kind. Some waited on 1ine for a commuter bus. One patient Lilliputian stood by as his tiny dog contemplated a fire plug. There were lamp posts, phone booths and all the familiar sights of a bustling rural community. The day was warm and balmy and Luke was ecstatic in his enjoyment.
Antonio was thinking about Marianna again. He thought about her all the time and wondered if she ever thought of him. Marianna was a goddess, at least that’s what he thought. And like most goddesses, she was unattainable, unknowable and yet he wanted to know her. His longing for her was breaking him apart.
It was a pleasant, rainy October night in Glasgow. I sat in my favorite Eglinton Toll pub, dividing my interest between the cheery beads on my glass of bitters, and the little phosphorescent snakes the rain was making on the neon-lit windows.