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- Э. Л. Джеймс
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He
sighs
.
“
She
died
when
I
was
four
.
I
don
’
t
really
remember
her
.
Carrick
has
given
me
some
details
.
I
only
remember
certain
things
.
Please
go
to
sleep
.
”
“
Good
night
,
Christian
.
”
“
Good
night
,
Ana
.
”
And
I
slip
into
a
dazed
and
exhausted
sleep
,
dreaming
of
a
four
-
year
-
old
gray
-
eyed
boy
in
a
dark
,
scary
,
miserable
place
.
*
*
*
There
is
light
everywhere
.
Bright
,
warm
,
piercing
light
,
and
I
endeavor
to
keep
it
at
bay
for
a
few
more
precious
minutes
.
I
want
to
hide
,
just
a
few
more
minutes
.
But
the
glare
is
too
strong
,
and
I
finally
succumb
to
wakefulness
.
A
glorious
Seattle
morning
greets
me
—
sunshine
pouring
through
the
full
-
height
windows
and
flooding
the
room
with
too
-
bright
light
.
Why
didn
’
t
we
close
the
blinds
last
night
?
I
am
in
Christian
Grey
’
s
vast
bed
minus
one
Christian
Grey
.
I
lie
back
for
a
moment
staring
through
the
windows
at
the
lofty
vista
of
Seattle
’
s
skyline
.
Life
in
the
clouds
sure
feels
unreal
.
A
fantasy
—
a
castle
in
the
air
,
adrift
from
the
ground
,
safe
from
the
realities
of
life
—
far
away
from
neglect
,
hunger
,
and
crack
-
whore
mothers
.
I
shudder
to
think
what
he
went
through
as
a
small
child
,
and
I
understand
why
he
lives
here
,
isolated
,
surrounded
by
beautiful
,
precious
works
of
art
—
so
far
removed
from
where
he
started
…
mission
statement
indeed
.
I
frown
because
it
still
doesn
’
t
explain
why
I
can
’
t
touch
him
.
Ironically
,
I
feel
the
same
up
here
in
his
lofty
tower
.
I
’
m
adrift
from
reality
.
I
’
m
in
this
fantasy
apartment
,
having
fantasy
sex
with
my
fantasy
boyfriend
,
when
the
grim
reality
is
he
wants
a
special
arrangement
,
though
he
’
s
said
he
’
ll
try
more
.
What
does
that
actually
mean
?
This
is
what
I
need
to
clarify
between
us
to
see
if
we
are
still
at
opposite
ends
on
the
seesaw
or
if
we
are
inching
closer
together
.
I
clamber
out
of
bed
feeling
stiff
and
,
for
want
of
a
better
expression
,
well
used
.
Yes
,
that
would
be
all
the
sex
then
.
My
subconscious
purses
her
lips
in
disapproval
.
