She found pieces of it on the blacktop near the green dumpster, amazingly small pieces considering the fabric’s original heft. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her. When she was done she checked the patio door and carried his body into the garage, burying his remains next to the ten year old girl he had raped and killed last autumn, whose bones were starting to show in small areas where the maggots had feasted. “I see the pointer,” she said. All at once it came to him what a fool he was to worry over this phase which was wholly suppositional. It heralded you, promised you.
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