’ ‘Now why didn’t I make that connection?’ Gerald asked of the air in a tone of regret. 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. A young man was playing the banjo. It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. She had asked about that already, and her father had replied, evasively: “We’ll have to see about that, little Vee; we’ll have to see about that. Each human contact leaves some indelible mark. Meantime the spinsters sought the dining room where tea was being served. Yeah, I’m thirty-seven. I wondered what you could be doing and what might be happening to you. Bullding is going to. " Some order.
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