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Wild of the circumstance. He was twenty-nine at the time, practically an old man. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. The angels in Heaven shall not tear you from me. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. Perhaps once it had desired some other human being intolerably. Don't be afraid. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning.
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