From all angles he was at a disadvantage—in weight, skill, endurance. Like a petulant child he snapped. But I do not love you. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. " "Why, what'll you do?" demanded the turnkey.
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