Although it was dark, not dusk, now,I could still see his handsome features fairly distinctly, thanks to thelight of the full moon that hovered above ...s. His face was impassive,like a mask. His voice was unemotional and matter of fact. "Recite thepoem again," he asked--or ordered; it could have been a request or acommand--"the one you call 'The Gift.'" Why?" I want to hear it."Wasn't it enough to leave me stranded on the side of a fucking mountain,my dignity in tatters? I wanted to scream at. So I looked around instead. In most houses there are pictures scattered around, and knickknacks ... little personal items that describe where the members of the family have been on their life walk thus far. All I saw in the living room was one picture of Eva and Timothy. It looked like it was a year old or maybe a little more. I remembered Wally, who was willing to forcibly take and sell anything of value in the house on Christmas Eve. He wasn't the kind to amass personal mementos ... or let. More

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