Michael Malone - Weebly

"She'll be all right. I saw her. I'm afraid your car
stalled; it's locked on Ransom Circle."
"Winslow, can you come over here? I wasn't going
to call until morning but since…Ramona's been asking
for you, about whether her will's been finalized. I know
the time. But she caught a very bad chill. I found her on
the floor of her widow's walk, soaked through.
Otto's here now. For some reason I went up there
to check." Smalter spoke quietly and from far away, as
if he spoke in a dream.
And so last night at 5:00 A.M., Winslow Abernathy
was awake, thinking about the kamikaze plane that had
cometed into his life some thirty years ago. He lay
naked across his bed, too tired to shower or to search
for pajamas. The lawyer tried to keep his eyes closed,
but every few seconds, minutes, hours, they sprang
open again. Slowly night became morning by fading the
black sky to a gray sheet streaked diagonally by lines of
rain. On his stomach, back, side, legs bent, stretched,
scissored—all positions maddened him with an
exhausted impatience. He could not numb his mind.