see herself, hear herself, hear her audience. How has that child lived long enough to have felt so deeply, to have suffered so?
The earth in her pot of hyacinths was hard and gray. White hyacinths to feed the soul. She watered it, watching the water bubble up through the cracks. She yawned.
Now to work.
She was writing a romance of old Spain, called Carnation Flower. "Chapter Eight," she wrote, and gazed at the words. Then she drew three lines under them and yawned again.
Now what? Annunciata had to be gotten to the bull-fight, but how to get her there? A true artist never wrote:
"Chapter Eight.
"Annunciata went to the bull-fight to see Juan" though that was what must be conveyed.
How to begin the chapter? She pulled book after book from her shelves and dipped in to see how other authors did. Dostoevski, Hardy,
