She lay there on the mat.
As the sun danced in the joy of being alive
She lay indoors, on that red mat
The red plastic mat
It is not hot, it is not so hot, she said to herself
She didn't want to get up and switch on the fan
It was too comfortable, the heat, the mat
The coolness droplets of water dripping on to her neck and shoulders
from her hair
The hair which spread its tentacles in all directions
Had there been a map under her head one strand would have been in the glaciers of Alaska
Another one moving from the exotic wilderness of Africa to oceanic depths of Australia
With silence, except that of an occasional flutter of the pigeons and the background noise of the neighborhood
She moved slightly on to the floor, she liked the coolness of it
With half her body on the mat and half on the floor
Blissfully ignorant of everything else of the world
She devoured
Letter by letter
Word by word
in a hurry to satiate her hunger
what turned out to be insatiable