could have been far more disastrous if we all had been away on the occasional ski trip and had come home to a large indoor pool. It was as if I had received a warning, like when an opened dining room window suddenly fell off its hinges and broke where five minutes earlier a son had stood before I had called him away to sweep the front walk. There was a feeling of symbiosis, something uncanny I could not put my finger on. Someone was keeping an eye on us. Was it Wright’s spirit? I sculpted a portrait in the form of a vase of him as a thank you note.
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