If you like the fields we'd walk away from the road into the fields, or we'd go fishing, if that's what you like to do. The sun would set and we'd build a fire. The trees and rocks would shrink and their shadows would grow. People don't have eyes by the light of a fire. No, that's glib and pointless. It's all glib and pointless. In the worlds that live in these tears just as much as in the real world, I'd stare at you and have no idea who you were, for hours. One word after another would get choked in my heart. I wouldn't be able to ask your name. You wouldn't be able to see my face. After a while the fire would go out, you'd be lost in the dark, and I would cry these tears.
( Denis Johnson )
[ Resuscitation of a Hanged Man ]
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