She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. That’s the wonder of it. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. “You left the TV on when you fell asleep in the living room, so I turned it off.
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