![]() Assuming correctly that someone as volatile as Molly had saidBradshaw was would have little patience with posted speed limits,Frederick had traced her through outstanding traffic tickets.Miss Bradshaw's new employer told him she had been vacationing inIreland for three weeks and wasn't due back till Thursday. aight, he fixed his mind onthe work before him.Nancy Bradshaw, the smasher of lamps, had proven a bit more of achallenge, but the end result was no more promising. A memory that ached only occasionally, like a badtooth when he bit down on it.The light Frederick saw himself in was rapidly becoming less thanflattering. just like that, dissipating into a vague fog the way adream will on waking. What saddened him was that he didn't givea damn.Anna was fading. Intellectually, he knew Molly might be anothersymptom of whatever: a choice between the tedium of having and theendless potential in wanting. "Soul" mightbe a little less specific a part of the anatomy than that which wasacting as lightning rod. Frederick laughed aloud, no longer concernedthat others might stare. It hadbeen, he'd told himself, Real.And it had been blown away over lunch by this new wind that Mollybreathed through his soul. ![]() “ A lawyer in Oregon he'd thrown himself at, only to runlike a scalded cat when she began to talk commitment. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |