Thrown alongside the hateful cattle prod in the trunk of Evan’s Easter-egg vehicle was the embarrassingly stinky sweatshirt that Dr. Ravi had advised might rouse the olfactory centers and memory of Loretta’s sleeping brain.
Before entering the hospital, Evan popped the trunk and exchanged the time-honored sport coat he usually wore with the grubby overgarment.
I smell like the locker room in high school.
I smell like the locker room in high school.He found Loretta as he’d feared she still was — stretched out in bed, lying on her back, hands curled at her chest.
I’ve prayed a thousand times just to see her blink. Why not yet?
I’ve prayed a thousand times just to see her blink. Why not yet?He flashed on unbidden images of medieval knights recumbent on the tops of their tombs laid beneat
