I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. “You’ll be there, right?” She asked, hearing his breathing audibly jump. She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. A forgotten island beyond the ship lanes, where that grim Hand would falter and move blindly in its search for him! From what he had read, there wouldn't be much to do; and in the idle hours he could write. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. The evenings were dulcet and soft. That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. She did not bother with the backpack despite its due tomorrow status. But always this new phase in life which civilization called convention threw up barrier after barrier. ‘Gabbling and muttering in a foreign tongue, that’s what I heard, sir,’ had declared the gap-toothed ancient, when he told them of the initial foray he had made, sneaking around the house in the dark.
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