“Vera was still sleeping, her macramé purse, the one with the gun in it, lay beside her on the bed. Kurt went to the mirror and studied himself. He rubbed his hands under his eyes and through his hair. “I found a gray one the other day, Jim. On my temple like a silver thread. The sunlight caught it when I was shaving. At first I thought it was paint from the shipyard.” I stepped to the mirror. “Where?” “I yanked it out.” “It’ll come back.” “Nah, I got the root and all.” “It’s pigment. We learned... it in biology class. Your body’s losing its color. Sister Hanrahan says the body’s more complicated than the universe.” “When’d you get so smart?” I shrugged. “Simple biology.” Even though we were whispering, Vera stirred. She rolled over, curling around her purse, drooling like a child, at peace. “Should we wake her?” “Let her sleep a little more. I don’t think she’s slept much in days. Let’s go for a swim. I’ll write her a note.” “What about the gun?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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