She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. And grasping the thick iron rod, she pushed with all her force against it, while Jack seconded her efforts from within. He gurgled as if trying to communicate. She went about the familiar home with a clearer and clearer sense of inevitable conclusions. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. The nuns, they were very good with a whip. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air. ’ ‘Dear me.
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