Martha stood in the freezing room, listening to the wind outdoors. From behind the pillows over the broken window came the vaporous tentacles of air. The room had become as lifelessly cold as an uninhabited boarded-up house. As she stood there Martha stopped thinking of how the story would sound later. She never afterwards described the details except to d**k and one other man.
Outdoors there was an abrupt bellowing as of a creature in pain, and then a great severing and crashing. The baby looked up from his playing cards and began to cry.
The dead tree had finally given way. Its roots lay stark black in all the white, staring up at the sky obscenely. The trunk and branches sprawled far away into the woods. It hadn’t fallen on the house after all.
Martha began to run. She sped through t
