Route 7 Review - Page 63

After the Divorce BY Robert Joe Stout Somewhere in the darkened room something alive, a voice, not audible but interrupting where he was. He reaches out —nothing there. Coffee pot and flowers, walls, car, images, impressions in a world of movement, change and all around him beings like himself —or ghosts, or angels, dreams appearing and dissolving, whispers, laughter, lives like rain descending, rising to descend again, inchoate, changing, mere illusions like the wind, the rain.