I can sue for this outrage. I wondered what thereaction would be if I said that was okay, I hadn't written anythingmore riveting than a grocery list since Jo died, and maybe this wouldstir me up a little. That's where I met my husband, you know. Whitmore leaped prankishly to one side to keep her feet from beingrun over.
They had probably discussed plans forfeeding the homeless on Thanksgiving. I wrung them out, put them on top of my shorts andtee-shirt, and walked naked up the railroad-tie steps with my clothesheld against my chest. That if you savesomeone's life, you're responsible for them. One of my favorite writerscomes out of nowhere and saves my kid.
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