“Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. You make a game with me, imbecile. “We pretend bodies are ugly. I will arise myself. 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. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. ‘You wouldn’t know one end of a pistol from the other. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face.
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