By Her Hand, She Draws You DownBy her hand, she draws you down.
With her mouth, she breathes you in.
Hope and dreams and soul devoured.
Lost to you, what might have been.
By her hand, she draws you down...
Joe swore when he saw Cath doing a kid. He had left her for just a minute, to get a beer from the booth on the pier before it closed for the night. Walking back now, he could see Cath on her stool, sketchpad on a knee, ocean breeze blowing her pale hair. A small girl sat on another stool facing her, a man and a woman, parents he guessed, beside the child.
Kid’s not more than seven, he thought. Cath promised me no kids. She promised.
The sun was long set, and the air had turned cool, but people still filled the boardwalk. Joe wove through the crowd as fast as he could without attra
