Then Anna spoke more seriously than usual. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. . She pursued her interest in the Socialist movement and in the Suffragist agitation in the company of Miss Miniver. Somebody to depend upon her; somebody to have need of her, if only for a little while. Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. She asked no further questions for the moment.
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