wide face of the waning moon. They blocked the light that powdered the reclining chair in a hoary whiteness, their dark twins padding across the stuffed fabric in smoky duplication. In the frame of that light a beating heart dissolved into the springs, wood and cushions of the powder blue recliner. In a few hours the clock radio would go on and the day would begin. But Albert, he would be late for work. 40 theMeadow
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy ODQ3NA==