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The white water lily

I rowed a good deal, in a grand, neat and drowsy gesture, my eyes fixed mostly on the inside, forgetting to move, as the laughter of the hour flowed around.   So much immobility reclined, like the brush of an inert noise when sailing as far as half the skiff, I didn’t check as I docked, and the steady flashing of initials on the oars were laid bare, which reminded me of my identity in the world.

What happened, where was I? 

He had to see clearly into the adventure.  I remember my early departure, this July of flame, on the interval between its bright dormant vegetation always from a narrow and distracted creek, in search of blooms on the water and with a purpose of finding the place occupied by the property of the friend of a friend, to whom I had to improvise a hello. 

Outside the grassless edge a landscape drew me in more than the other, hunted by its reflection under the wave by the same impartial oar.  I had come to fail in some clump of reeds, at the mysterious end of my race, in the middle of the river: which immediately widened into a river grove.  It displayed the nonchalance of a pond rippled by hesitation from its origin.  

Detailed inspection showed me that this barrier of greenery in a point on the course, masked the single arch of a bridge extended to land here and there by a hedge enclosing the lawns. I realized: simply the park of Madame…, welcome to the stranger. A nice neighborhood, during the season, the nature of a person who has chosen retirement also impenetrable wetland  that may not be as agreeable to my taste.   Certainly, she had constructed from this crystal her interior mirror, away from the bright indiscretion of this afternoon she came and the icy silver mist of willows soon found the clarity of her look familiar to each leaf. 

All I mentioned was purifying. 

Bent in the sporting attitude that kept me from curiosity, under the spacious silence of what promised to be a stranger, I smiled at the beginning of an offhand slavery by feminine possibility, that did not mean evil, the straps attaching the shoe of the rower to the boat’s wood, as if it were one with the instrument’s charms.  

“Both any…” I was going to finish. Then an imperceptible noise made me doubt if the resident of the edge haunted my leisure, or beyond hope the basin. 

The footsteps ceased, why ? 

Subtle secret of feet that come and go, lead the mind which desires the dear shadow hidden in the linen and the lace of a flowing skirt on the ground, as to circumvent the heel to toe, in a flotation, this initiative by what walking opened, at the bottom and the rejected folds in the train, a glimpse, of her double arrow, learned. 

She knows a reason, at its home, itself the walker, and is it me? aiming my head too high, for these rods not to surpass and all the mental somnolence where my lucidity is, to question that which was hitherto mysterious. 

“In what way do you arrange your features, I feel their precision, Madame, interrupting something installed here, by the rustle of an arrival, yes ! this instinctive charm from below that does not defend against the explorer, most authentically tied, with a diamond buckle, of belts.   If a vague concept will suffice: and will not transgress the delight tinged with generality that allows and orders the exclusion of all faces, so the revelation of one (do not consider the point in question proven on the furtive threshold where I reign) chased my trouble, for which it has no use.” 

My presentation, in which this aquatic marauder is kept, I can try, excused by chance. 

Divided, we are all together: I am interfering with her confusing privacy, in this suspense over the water where my dream lingers in indecision, better than a visit, followed by others, who permit it. That speech was idle compared to the one I held never to be heard.   It was there before it returned as an intuitive agreement that now one could hear the edge of mahogany on the sand which you had!  

The break is measured at the time of my determination. 

Advise, oh my dream, what to do? 

Summarize with a look of blank absence scattered in solitude and, as we gather, in memory of a site, one of these magical water lilies enclosed therein arose suddenly, enveloping nothing in their hollow whiteness, made of intact dreams, of happiness that will not happen and here I held my breath here in fear of an appearance, starting with: tacitly, flexing gradually without a smooth break in the illusion or that the lapping of the visible bubble of foam wrapped in my flight throws at the feet occurring of the person, the transparent resemblance, of the seduction of my perfect flower.  

If, caught by an unusual feeling, it seemed, Meditation or Haughtiness, the Savage, the Gay, too bad for this untold wealth that I will overlook forever! because I performed the maneuver according to the rules:  disengaged myself, rounded and tacked along the ripple of a creek, sailing like a noble newborn swan, as it gushed into flight, my imaginary trophy, which swelled to something else as if the exquisite vacancy of self love, the summer, continued, down the paths of her park, any woman, stopping, sometimes for awhile, as near a source to cross, or of some body of water.