Early in the novel that Tereza clutched under her arm when she went to visit...– Milan Kundera, from The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Lying in the shadows of the late night, he realizes their hearts beat in time. For a few ticks, he feels her heart in chorus with his, sending millions of tiny cells moving through their blood vessels. A fluid rush, and sudden stillness. Their smallest pieces, small soldiers, marching together to the same drumbeat. Then the chorus peels apart—by fractions, increments, silence. Each cycle...