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There is nothing here at the top of the valley. Sky and morning, silence and the dry smell of heavy sunlight on the stone everywhere. Goats occasionally, and the sound of roosters in the bright heat where he lives with the dead woman and purity. Trying to see if something comes next. Wondering whether he has stalled. Maybe, he thinks, it is like the Noh: whenever the script says dances, whatever the actor does next is a dance. If he stands still, he is dancing.
Jack Gilbert To See If Something Comes Next

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