He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. Capes went first, finding footholds and, where the drops in the strataedges came like long, awkward steps, placing Ann Veronica’s feet. You don’t know, Anna, but when one is in danger one realizes that the— the other side of the line is Hell. ’ ‘I like that,’ Gerald protested. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. Some of the lunatics were rattling their chains; some shrieking; some singing; some beating with frantic violence against the doors. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. Jack was not half your age when he died.
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