Monday, January 07, 2008


Winston picked up a flattish stone, turning it in his hand until it slipped between his curved index finger and palm, then spun away as he threw to go skipping over the water. He watched it bounce four, five, six times until it sank and only then turned to his companion. “I’ve met someone,” he said. “Someone I think would make a better fit for me than you.”

“It’s that bloody nun, isn’t it?” Pennie stared out across the ripples left by her boyfriend’s stone and scratched the scar across her stomach. “What’s she got that I haven’t?”

“She’s still alive.”

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