On the nightstand

Divisadero by Michael Ondaatje - For I have taken myself away from who I was with them, and what I used to be. - - She was following a path of gorse. . . - - Otherwise his mind was this scrubbed table that could barely remember holding cups, or plates, or slices of bread, or a girl's tired head. - - They are a strange breed, clockmakers, some surly and insensitive to all save the machine about to whir into life, some uncertain as poets about their gift. -