He had not wanted to name it; he had wanted her to understand and show no fear.She had not been able to accept the Stoddard trial, she had run from the dreadof seeing him hurt by the world, but she had agreed to help him in this. Hadagreed in com
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He had not wanted to name it; he had wanted her to understand and show no fear.She had not been able to accept the Stoddard trial, she had run from the dreadof seeing him hurt by the world, but she had agreed to help him in this. Hadagreed in complete serenity. She was free and he knew it.#The road ran flat across the dark stretches of Long Island, but Dominique feltas if she were driving uphill. That was the only abnormal sensation: thesensation of rising, as if her car were speeding vertically. She kept her eyeson the road, but the dashboard on the rim of her vision looked like the panel ofan airplane. The clock on the dashboard said 11:10.She was amused, thinking: I’ve never learned to fly a plane and now I know howit feels; just like this, the unobstructed space and no effort. And no weight.That’s supposed to happen in the stratosphere--or is it the interplanetaryspace?--where one begins to float and there’s no law of gravity. No law of anykind of gravity at all. She heard herself laughing aloud.Just the sense of rising....Otherwise, she felt normal. She had never driven acar so well. She thought: It’s a dry, mechanical job, to drive a car, so I knowI’m very clearheaded; because driving seemed easy, like breathing or swallowing,an immediate function requiring no attention. She stopped for red lights thathung in the air over crossings of anonymous streets in unknown suburbs, sheturned corners, she passed other cars, and she was certain that no accidentcould happen to her tonight; her car was directed by remote control--one ofthose automatic rays she’d read about--was it a beacon or a radio beam?--and sheonly sat at the wheel.It left her free to be conscious of nothing but small matters, and to feelcareless and...unserious, she thought; so completely unserious. It was a kind ofclarity, being more normal than normal, as crystal is more transparent thanempty air. Just small matters: the thin silk of her short, black dress and theway it was pulled over her knee, the flexing of her toes inside her pump whenshe moved her foot, "Danny’s Diner" in gold letters on a dark window thatflashed past.
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