Lolita

What I heard then was the melody of children at play. Nothing but that. And I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing... ..was not Lolita's absence from my side...but the absence of her voice from that chorus.

She was Lo. Plain Lo in the morning. Standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. In my arms, she was always... Lolita. Light of my life. Fire of my loins. My sin. My soul. Lolita.