The Kiss (page 27)
(a cocktail in a highball glass of vodka, peach schnapps, orange juice, and cranberry juice)
On the beach, where the waves broke gently against the white sand, Emil and Wilhelmina lay in the dunes. Without the buoyancy of the salted water, she felt all the weight and contour of him, and she rejoiced in it. There was time for her and time for him. Time to revise the hundred indecisions, the hundred visions and revisions of the last days. Time to kiss away the questions and uncertainties. Time to assure and promise. Time to explore like delighted cartographers, each other’s unexamined topographies. Time to savor like enraptured mathematicians, each other’s new, moving topologies.