Sometimes she stayed at home. She had the capacity for being by herself for hours, apparently doing nothing.

Then one night she woke again, roused by some movement of his.
'What's the matter now, George? ' she asked, exasperated.

In the silence that followed, the resurrected boy in George died painfully.

'Nothing,' he said, 'nothing at all.' He turned away from her, defeated.

It was he who moved out of the big bed into the narrow bed in the study. She said with a sharp sad smile:

'Fed up with me, George? Well, I can't help it, you know. I didn't ever like sleeping beside someone very much.'

........

In the morning she looked at him oddly, with an odd sad little respect, and said:

'You know what, George, you've just got into the habit of loving.'

........


very refined quotes and the title from  doris lessing' s 'the habit of  loving'
combined with the lino-cut drawings of serkan adin