December 10, 2014 § Leave a comment
Listening to the rain, Clara brushed the day’s work from her hair. She
surveyed the house again, looking for anything left undone. Baxter,
the old spaniel trailed her, restive.
Dressed with measure.
Heated a brandy.
“Time to go now,” she said, turning off lights.
By midnight the river was in the parlor.