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weren’t exactly having sex. It was more an extension of their embrace, a question of maximum unity and surface contact. The feeling that they were not only one soul but also one and the same body.
    Although they found it almost impossible to tear themselves apart, they crawled together into the living room, more like an eight-footed spider than a cartwheel on its spokes, and when their mouths parted at last she let fall a word. Just one tiny word and then the dam burst because the word precipitated a chain reaction in their brains. The words flowed in and out of them like a cycle. Biologists would have said that they were nourished by the word-synthesis that streamed through them, round and round. They lay on the floor for a good while, talking and giggling and fooling around because together they were as complete and true as a circle.
    They were not nourished by words alone but also by silence. When they fell silent the silence was so rich and the feeling so resonant with meaning and understanding that when one of them broke it with a word or sentence it was frequently to add to what the other had just been thinking.
    Of course, Indridi and Sigrid had to work like other people and after they made love on the kitchen floor while they were waiting for the kettle to boil, Indridi managed to use the last of his strength to free himself from the honey-glue and Sigrid slipped into a jumper and panties. With a combined effort they were able to get dressed and part their lips long enough to eat breakfast, though without completely ceasing to touch. Then they gazed long and deep into one another’s eyes to say a reluctant: “Bye, see you at lunchtime.”
    But love had not had its final word. They left the house together and Indridi stood on the street corner, staring after Sigrid as she walked backward along the pavement toward the geriatric unit down the road. Indridi used hand signals to let her know if she was steering into flowerbeds or bushes. When she reached the junction she stopped and blew Indridi a kiss before taking the big step: out of sight. It was as if a cloud had covered the sun. Their hearts beat lonely and forlorn in their dark rib-casings and they missed each other so inexpressibly much that they just had to ring:
    â€œWhere are you?” asked Indridi.
    â€œI’m here around the corner.”
    â€œDo you miss me?”
    â€œYes, I miss you.”
    â€œShall we take a peep?”
    â€œYes, let’s peep one more time.”
    They retraced their steps, peeped around the corner, and waved to one another. Sometimes they couldn’t stop themselves from running back together and letting a few beautiful words flow from lips into ears where they turned into a thrilling, tingling electric current that undulated like the Northern Lights over the dark surface of their brains. Indridi held her around the waist and they gazed into each other’s eyes.
    â€œI missed you,” he said.
    â€œIt’s so hard to part,” said Sigrid, looking apprehensively at the geriatric unit down the road.
    â€œSee you at lunchtime,” said Indridi.
    â€œBye,” said Sigrid. After the good-byes they stood speechless for ten more minutes, neither able to take the first step, until at last they said “one, two, go” and ran straight to work without looking over their shoulders; they were both late.
    At lunchtime Indridi and Sigrid would sometimes cycle down to the harbor and sit in a café on the docks. Above them towered the Statue of Liberty, a one-thousand-foot-tall statue of Leif Eriksson straddling the harbor entrance with moles under his stone feet. It was LoveStar who donated the giant Viking hero to the nation, the largest statue of liberty in the world, which bore a suspicious resemblance to LoveStar himself. The statue stared out at the restless sea, eternal flames of liberty burning in his eyes to guide the snow-white cruise ships as they sailed to land like