ed. Outside. Yes, t  just to get ahe moors.

    te  locked, I kneo open it for me. Instead, I o t point from t been opened for a long time, and I o pull tcoo be pusep, a little disside.

    I used to t I loved rain, but in fact I . teel to by all tacles t in its pat of toself. On ttered by tung my face and, beer burst against my shoulders.

    hday.

    If I  t from beneatairs. t auction and put aside during ture.  t afternoon  office or t one lunco cten in it, Love from Dad and Mot te alone. o the shop—

    I  s I  fat a candle, , and er. te tea, and settled doo quiet digestion and cataloging.

    I kne I s  in t from me, but from my mot bear t of table e of remembrance, one t made it impossible to invite otoo, to leave reat of a visit to toys  ones. Cakes ed of t in tin for t day.

    in my ear. e played silent card games  a splutter, could be  pain of t birtairs, cy to sympato jollity, in tairwell.

    Un. It settled like dust upon t covered everyone and everyt invaded us ook. It se miseries.

    Only because I o contemplate these memories.

    so er’s deat? Per to. I er  of me was a reminder of her loss.

    ould it h died?

    Stupefied, I  in front of terest in wumbled on.

    to something.

    ‘Margaret! Margaret!“

    I oo cold to be startled, too cold to make my face respond to  form t stood before me, sentlike drapes of green rainproof fabric. It moved, and two hands came down on my shoulders and gave me a shake.

    ‘