-eng- Sleeping Cousin - -rj353254-

The night was thick and wet. I could smell the lake, the citronella candle that had burned out hours ago, and something else—her shampoo. Coconut and something green. I watched the dim light from a distant dock play across her face. In sleep, the sharpness in her eyes was gone. The mocking tilt of her mouth had softened. She looked younger. She looked like a stranger.

Then she shifted.

But every summer since, when the magnolias drop their petals and the air grows thick and heavy, I think about that porch. That silence. That impossible, sleeping closeness. And I wonder if she remembers whispering those words, or if the dream swallowed them whole. -ENG- Sleeping Cousin -RJ353254-

No lights. No fan. No excuse to stay in my assigned room, a closet-sized box of heat and stale pillows. The night was thick and wet

Not waking—just a small, mammalian turn. Her hand slipped from her stomach and fell over the edge of the chaise. Her fingers brushed my knee. I watched the dim light from a distant

I did not move. I did not breathe. I simply sat there, her fingertips resting against the bone of my knee, and felt the terrible, exquisite weight of being this close to something I could never have.