On 07.23.21 Mary was unable to write much, haunted and paralyzed by that apparition all those years ago—now making residence again somewhere deep in her mind. She had a day full of distrait, disinhibition, and discountenance—deliberate and unseen.
(these were all she did)
“His was a great sin who first invented consciousness. Let us lose it for a few hours.”
— F. Scott Fitzgerald / “The Diamond as Big as the Ritz”