Michael Malone - Weebly

the dream of her heart's preeminent desire was to come
true, but at, God bless him, poor Hawk's expense.
Poor Hawk's big salary was going to make their
dreams come true, not his. While he lay all alone in the
cold ground, with his beautiful house that he never
should have built out in the wilderness burned to a crisp
over his corpse. And worst of all his beautiful wife, that
if Sarah could trust her intuitions, hadn't even loved
Hawk in the first place for some reason, his poor dear
wife lying in her hospital bed, snatched right out of the
grim jaws of death not a moment too soon after being
dragged through hell on earth, and what's more, no
home or husband to go home to, and the post office
itself shutting down even if Judith had the strength to get
her old job back, which she didn't. And even though
Judith had told her this morning that Maynard hadn't
done it, and had even held her hands and said, "Sarah,
stop saying this was your fault. It wasn't."
Still, Mrs. MacDermott would never get over this in
a thousand years, and that's what she'd said to Chinkie
in the A&P today, and at least Chinkie'd had the human
feelings, even if she was an Orientaler, to say she was