However, his sated sleep lasted barely an hour. He now sat propped up leaning on pillows stacked against his bed's headboard. In his hands, he held a ...olume of poetry by Edgar Allan Poe. His eyes began to read the first stanza of "Annabel Lee" again, but his mind simply could not absorb the words. Sleepless nights were not an unusual occurrence for him, but the feeling of restlessness, the feeling that he needed to be elsewhere, was. He tossed the book aside with a grunt of aggravation."I think. "Mostly," she said, rubbing her leg on mine."See that," I pointed, feeling like a randy school master, "what're those?" That's an "o' and a "v," she said. "Is that an "e"?"First letter's an "el," I said. "L-o-v-e, that's love."She kissed the letter, and then read the word to herself several times. "Where's it say 'kiss'?" she asked. I pointed."K and i and are these s's?" Yep," I said."Those are the first two words I've ever read," she said. "Papa didn't believe in girls reading."We got back on. More

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