by Utahna Faith
(11/07/01)
8 a.m. A knock at the door. Luke scrambles to his feet to answer. Lily and I stretch and blink like decadent cats startled by a shifting ray of sunshine. Alex murmurs in his sleep and pulls the down comforter over one eye. An empty gin bottle lies sideways on the table; lemon twists clutch the sides of wayward martini glasses. Clothes are strewn about -- Lily's jeans, my black
boots, Alex's boxers, one of Luke's dark patterned socks.
Luke pauses with his hand on the door knob. Ding dong. The cable guy has discovered the bell. Alex blinks into wakefulness. We all smile at one another, bed-headed, love-sticky, rich against society's wildest dreams and deepest fears. Tonight we will watch French cinema.We will check CNN daily to assure ourselves that the world has not gone to
war.
We are four. Luke blows me a kiss. I catch it and place it on Alex's forehead. He presses it to Lily's cheek. She blows it back to Luke, who catches it on his tongue and swallows it.
"Ready?" Luke asks. We nod and sink back under the covers. He opens the door.
