“Call me Cathy, John. I want to do without that for a time. ” She smiled at him. 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. The continuity was frequently broken in upon by diversory suppositions. Taber returning. Art was everywhere, underfoot in the form of mosaics, overhead in the form of architecture. ’ ‘His daughter, ma’am?’ Gerald asked. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. . She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies. I’ve had enough of it. Curiously enough nothing will persuade him that she is not ‘Alcide.
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