Catherine sat at the hotel bar, clean, wearing a white dress, and drinking something with vodka.  He stood still, for a second, looking at her.   He blinked, now watching her stand.  A mirage.  As Catherine came towards him, heels clicking, he watched her closing the distance between them.  Nathan could smell her now, wearing something exotic, jasmine maybe; this made him think, perhaps, she could smell Tangiers on him.  Before he could think of anything else, Nathan heard himself telling Catherine that he needed to go upstairs, up to take a shower.   Immediately, he imagined losing her again.  So he invited her up, insisted upon it.  I’ll only be a minute, and we can talk while I get ready. 

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