The Malady of Death by Marguerite Duras
 Read one sunday morning in the yard on 4th Ave. It was morning and I didn't know what to do. I remember swaying in front of the book shelves and then right there in the yard trying to get away. Balancing, as I remember doing, balancing myself on the book, my love on it, what I wanted to write and what I wanted to be. It is not very long. It did not take me very long to read while the heat set into the yard and everyone woke up and milled around making breakfast. It was Josh, Jimmy, and me.
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