Chapter 5 (Cont.)
The bathroom door opened in graceful silence as I stepped outside of the bathroom. The ambient lighting was a dim amber in the bedroom. I stepped towards the bed and looked at Agatha: even in deep sleep, it seemed like she has retained total composure. Her straight brown hair was scattered around the pillow, some stray strands found their way over her left eye, over the nose, nudging on her lips. How beautiful she is... It is both habitual and somnium-instinctive of people to unknowingly assume various postures in their sleep. Agatha's body was straight on the bed, her legs were straight too and even her hands were placed in discipline beside the body. People in dreams have relaxed postures, people in nightmares have distressed postures. What does Agatha dream of? I looked at Agatha again, closely. Closer still. People asleep would often have a lost composure, sometimes to a comical degree. Agatha's face looks as it always does, the only difference is that her eyes are closed now. Her grey eyes remind me of Dana Brazencunt, but instead of malice, there's a profoundly calm intensity. As she is not of this world. Is she of this world? Is she... When we married, she had refused to let go of her maiden name. She wouldn't even agree to a hyphenation. My wife is Agatha Granger. Not Agatha Gotard or Agatha Granger-Gotard.
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For Anna von Hausswolff IV / Källans återuppståndelse III (Från ett avstånd)