Every time it would happen, it was like a little death

Jesus Helguera His awakening brought her around, she looked on him and smiled. “Oh, hello.”
“What were you saying?” He reached over and pulled her head down onto his chest. “My French, is not good, I mostly slept through all the classes.”
“La petite mort. The little death.” She smiled. “Marta used to read naughty books to me at night, after all the lights were out. We’d make a little tent with the sheets and we’d have a flashlight. I’d hold the light and Marta would read under the tent. One book, about a woman in love,” she hesitated, a little embarrassed.
“Go on, please.”
“She would describe things, things we didn’t understand, of course we knew what they were doing, you know, it, but we didn’t fully understand. And she said, the character in the book said, she felt la petite mort. Every time it would happen, it was like a little death.” She looked up and kissed him on the mouth, moved her hand down over his body and smiled. “And now I know what she meant.” The Mule Tamer III, Marta's Quest