January 25, 2003
She decided to let love sneak up on her this time. Not tiptoe across the carpet in stocking feet and pounce, not leap out from a dark corner… more like the dog who’s not supposed to sleep on the bed but climbs on anyway and inches along until his head is on the pillow, as though you hadn’t noticed what he was up to. You could be aware and allow it without really acknowledging it. And once he was there, you could throw an arm over him, and bury your nose in his fur and resign yourself to the pleasure.