Dancing in the Dark

Dancing in the Dark

Joan Barfoot

Language: English

Pages: 192

ISBN: 0704346745

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Edna is a perfect wife, a secret dreamer, and a murderer. Keeping her house scrupulously clean takes up almost all of her time, but when she closes her eyes, a whole new Edna comes into play.

A Wolf at the Gate

Second Contact

The Martian Race (The Adventures of Victor & Julia, Book 1)

The Train of Small Mercies

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

distant. When I was in my teens, it began to glitter a little way ahead, in and out of view, shimmering on the horizon. From the faceless frightened girl would come the woman, leaping some mysterious gap; who would be the butterfly from the caterpillar, the graceful swan from the ugly duckling, and the heroine of all those other childhood stories. Some effort would be involved. But while I was not at the time equipped for such an effort, and would probably not even recognize it, part of the

done; I liked the view from the inside looking out. “I think,” he said one night, “it might be time to throw away the safes.” Looked at me questioningly. “What do you think?” Well yes, it might be time to move on to the next thing. This was part of it, of course. “A boy, I think,” he was grinning. “I’d like to order a boy first, if you don’t mind.” A baby is what I would have liked. Just a baby. We would walk out in the sunshine, up the street and back, baby in carriage, stroller, bundled up.

of when I first saw the one in the nurse’s hands. A poem maybe. Or some other way to put events in place. Flatten them out with words, or straighten them, or look at them. Or just get rid of them. Put them some place where covers could be shut on them. They thought a notebook might be an opening? It has built a new wall instead. And this time it is just my wall, I don’t have to share it. So no groping fingers are going to poke through this time. In either direction. This notebook, I can touch

Harry was extravagant in his speech as well as in other ways. What did he mean by perfect? That I was deaf and dumb and blind and stupid? A smile, a rose—these should be good returns on my investment. “So,” he said, “are you feeling better? Did you do what I said and pamper yourself today?” See, questions. An evening of questions. But he was interested. He wasn’t talking about himself. It was my fault that I couldn’t think what to tell him, or what to ask. Years of listening, droplets of

This will be the third season since the event, which seems to have moved back so far in time, and also to be rolling up ahead again. I am a different person. Like being born in a late July night. An ugly birth that is, my life from his, a terrible thing. I should feel guilt and grief. I feel a little badly that I can’t feel those things. The newborn Edna seems somewhat deformed. It is difficult to remember that other one. Who spent years thoughtlessly and randomly, for all their order. At the

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