Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. Jeez! It was about time. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. Anywhere! Moonlight and music—pleasing, you know, but quite unnecessary. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. I hate children. 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. It’s a sort of guarantee of confidence. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth.
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