History has to live with what was here, clutching and close to fumbling all we had, it is so dull and gruesome how we die, unlike writing, life never finishes. Abel was finished; death is not remote,...
Gone now the baby's nurse, a lioness who ruled the roost and made the Mother cry. She used to tie gobbets of porkrind to bowknots of gauze three months they hung like soggy toast...
Nautilus Island's hermit heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage; her sheep still graze above the sea. Her son's a bishop. Her farmer...