The Books of My Numberless Dreams

And let my cry come unto thee

Posted on: January 10, 2007

“Oh! help me, heaven,” she prayed, “to be decorative and to do right! Let me always look young, never more than sixteen or seventeen–at the very outside, and let Yousef love me–as much as I do him. And I thank you for creating such a darling, God (for he’s a perfect dear), and I can’t tell you how much I love him; especially when he wags it! I mean his tongue…Bless all the sisters at the Flaming-Hood–above all Sister Ursula…and be sweet, besides, to old Jane…Show me the straight path! And keep me ever free from the malicious scandal of the Court. Amen.”

And her orisons (ending in a brief self-examination) over, Mademoiselle de Nazianzi climbed into bed.

From “Flower Beneath the Foot” by Ronald Fairbank


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