The Divers' Game

by Jesse Ball

we see her, beneath linden trees, swaying as a child does, because the morning sways, because when it is the morning, isn’t everything swaying? It is only the old who are stiff, who can no longer feel the world’s slight breath.

None of it meant anything, but the whole of it was of course as meaningful as a thing could be. To be alongside another person, and somehow in them, in their eyes and mind, to feel what they feel, and have what you feel be felt?

She felt a rushing in her head, like a smile at its start.