He was drawing the sky into himself and every now and then an angel would pass and they smiled at one another. He watches like a fat boy stuffed inside a mason jar with eyes glued to the glass. She came along leaping from the flying forest-alcazar and up the Algonquin hill. She overflowed with flowers and fruit, remnants of the earth, brimming fertility. She was a sylvan goddess, Tahitian Princess, soft melon lady. The world was brimming with ecstatic aberration. She came to cradle him on her back and race him to her world of cantaloupes, melons, and liquid mangos.