Marianne, The Magus & The Manticore - Plot & Excerpts
Winesap's window, bubbling its music in vain to ears which did not hear. "I hear," whispered Marianne, speaking to the night, the rain, the comer of the living room she could see from her bed. When she lay just so, the blanket drawn across her lips, the pillow crunched into an exact shape, she could see the amber glow of a lamp in the living room left on to light one corner of the reupholstered couch, the sheen of the carefully carpentered shelves above it, the responsive glow of the refinished table below, all in a kindly shine and haze of belonging there. "Mine," said Marianne to the room. The lamplight fell on the first corner of the apartment to be fully finished, and she left the light on so that she could see it if she woke, a reminder of what was possible, a promise that all the rooms would be reclaimed from dust and dilapidation. Soon the kitchen would be finished. Two more weeks at the extra work she was doing for the library and she'd have enough money for the bright Mexican tiles she had set her heart upon.
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