I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. behind the Laundromat.
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