What little happiness I had I was forced to steal. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. Wood, sharply. “Has he accused any one yet?” “Not yet,” he answered.
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