Bessie opens her eyes on this heat-sweaty pre-dawn at just past four; Miss Marple is curled into the crook of her knees. She rubs her eyes, getting out of bed to stare out the window into the backyard at the dark sky. The old rusty swing set rocks slightly in a breeze. In July, it was beginning to lighten at this hour when she and Ash had sneaked out … Don’t go there, I can’t go there right now, or I’ll drown.
Don’t go there, I can’t go there right now, or I’ll drown.“Wonder why I haven’t heard from Mrs. Moreno about that medium?” Bessie murmurs out loud, climbing back into bed. “Probably won’t work for me anyways. Nothing works for me.” Tears flow. She rubs them away violently with a corner of the sheet. Wiggling her toes, she edges herself away from the sleeping pup.
Sitting up, she sw
