The sole occupier of her thoughts. Her ticket off this thrice-accursed world. But there were others vying for its beauty and she spotted one now, just...breaking through the grass to her left. He looked pale and ragged, cradling a broken arm but still he persisted towards the hill. She spun around and pounced on him, claws outstretched, and tore viciously at his chest until purple blood spurted forth and he fell limp. She kept thrashing still after he lay dead and even tried to tear out his nerve. For the next couple of days we didn't do much more than talk and catch up on family gossip. She slept a lot, resting from her travails. Apparently her husband was an abuser, not that such news surprised me. Since I lived in that part of the U.S. where our family had the deepest roots I offered to give her a tour of the cemeteries where our ancestors are buried. It was on a warm day in early summer I took her to one of the family cemeteries. Our great grand parents were buried there as well as. More

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