Although right now feelings are actually more swirling and contrary than Miranda’s sudden youthful discovery alone. Maybe reading her father Prospero’s envoy at play’s end, or Ecclesiastes, would be the right counterpoint in order to conjure a more complex feeling-world over time.
I’d been burning brush in light rain in the Sur—and came back into town to watch last night’s game with my son and friends at a good W’s watering hole. Even in its very early stages, the game was already interesting as hell. Then at the first quarter break, I checked my emails and read from Viggy the news of his father’s heart attack.