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Unformatted text preview: oving a small flashlight from her pocket, she bent over and directed the tiny beam right into Rowan's eye. She stepped back, shaking her head. Michael sat down again. OK, honey. OK. I'm going to get him. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to destroy him. I'm going to see that his brief fleshly life comes to a swift end. I am going to do it. Nothing this time will stop me. Nothing. He kissed her open palm. No movement in the fin- gers. He kissed it again, and then he folded the hand closed and put it at her side. How terrible to think she might not want him to be touching her, might not like the light or the candles, might not want anyone near her, and yet she was locked inside, unable to utter a single word. "Love you, darling dear," he said to her. "I love you. I love you." The clock struck eleven. How strange it was. The hours dragged and then they flew. Only Rowan's breathing had the constant rhythm. He lay back in the chair, and closed his eyes. IT WAS past midnight when he looked...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10