I trace the ghostly scoliotic curve. The line deviates suggestively from the strictly vertical. I study the dim arcs of ribs that frame her spine, the cunningly articulated vertebrae. I picture Claudia in the next room, naked under the examination gown. The images arouse me, confuse me. I’m feeling something like what I’ve learned to distinguish as the fire of the Holy Ghost. I worship these pale images.
[from Immortal for Quite Some Time]