How beautiful, he thinks looking down at her. He is the painter and she is his easel. Standing over the cask of what was once a college girl the man b...gins to wipe blood from his trousers. This is the last moments of her life. This young woman, who hasn’t done much, is now lying and waiting for him to disrupt a quiet perfection. A scream tears through the background. Shoulders still the man turns to walk back towards the main road. The woods are dense. Trees scratch like fingers against his tan. I mean, I might," and then turning to Mom added, "If she wasn't so darn strong and mean already!"Jean threw her napkin at me and yelled, "You shit! I am not! MOM, make him stop!"Covering my head with one arm, I held up the peace sign with the other hand and quickly said, "Sor-ry. Didn't mean it. Honest. Peace. Peace?" Then, turning to my mother, I added in a stage whisper, "She's cute when she's mad, isn't she?"Mom leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. Her eyes and voice. More

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