Glorian was tall and stately, never married, and well beyond the Italian ideal of half my age plus ten years. Her searing ferocity in the protection of her legal aid clients was a wonder to me. But more wonderful still was the unexpected and lovely tenderness toward them that sometimes brought her to tears at their poverty and hopelessness . . .
This is the story of how I became omniscient, and what happened when I did. I wouldn't have become all-knowing in the first place if not for a nonverbal understanding that led to an oral fixation, and adultery that led to a haircut that influenced another haircut. Without the cat dander or the conference in Boston, the kiss would never have happened, the most important pimple would not have burst, Sophocles would not have stood naked in my kitchen, and I wouldn't have confronted the paradox of my omniscience.
Benny has been awake in bed for a of couple hours. He is on his side turned away from Anne. A dull light comes in through the tapestry he's draped over the window. Dust particles float around in the light. Beside him, she lays on her back wearing eye covers. She didn't wear them when she first started sleeping in his room. The first few times she had complained about the sunlight and how she couldn't sleep. She was used to sleeping on the other side of the house . . .
322 Review publishes provocative emerging and established artists. Conceived and operated by former Rowan University graduate students of the Master of Arts in Writing Program, 322 Review is aggressively seeking the best fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, and mixed media works of visual art.
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