lights flicker from the opposite loft

------------------ [excerpt from Emma, by Jane Austen.  John Murray, London, 1815] -------------------------------- Though her nephew had had no particular reason to hasten back on her account, she had not lived above six-and-thirty hours after his return.  A sudden seizure of a different nature from any thing foreboded by her general state, had carried her off after a short struggle.  The great Mrs. Churchill was no more.

It was felt as such things must be felt.  Every body had a degree of gravity and sorrow; tenderness towards the departed, solicitude for the surviving friends; and, in a reasonable time, curiosity to know where she would be buried.  

        Goldsmith tells us, that when lovely woman stoops to folly, she has nothing to do but to die; and when she stoops to be disagreeable, it is equally to be recommended as a clearer of ill-fame.  

Mrs. Churchill, after being disliked at least twenty-five years, was now spoken of with compassionate allowances.  In one point she was fully justified.  She had never been admitted before to be seriously ill.  The event acquitted her of all the fancifulness, and all the selfishness of imaginary complaints.

"Poor Mrs. Churchill! no doubt she had been suffering a great deal:  more than any body had ever supposed - and continual pain would try the temper.  It was a sad event - a great shock - with all her faults, what would Mr. Churchill do without her?  Mr. Churchill's loss would be dreadful indeed.  

        Mr. Churchill would never get over it." - Even Mr. Weston shook his head, and looked solemn, and said, "Ah! poor woman, who would have thought it!" and resolved, that his mourning should be as handsome as possible; and his wife sat sighing and moralising over her broad hems with a commiseration and good sense, true and steady.  

How it would affect Frank was among the earliest thoughts of both.  It was also a very early speculation with Emma.

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Ain't it just like the night

To play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet?

We sit here, stranded

Though we're all doin' our best to deny it

And Louise holds a handful of rain,

Tempting you to defy it

Lights flicker from the opposite loft

In this room the heat pipes just cough

The country music stations plays soft

But there's nothing,

Really nothing to turn off...

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{"Visions of Johanna" - Bob Dylan. Blonde On Blonde album.  Columbia}

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