The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. “WHAT a place! “Stuffy isn’t the word for it. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. Then suddenly the curtain would fall. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. Shari entered the room in a damp towel, fresh from the shower. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. Can I give him any message for you?” “Thank you,” Anna answered.
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