This preview shows page 1. Sign up to view the full content.
Unformatted text preview: "Au revoir, ma Cherie," he had called out. And then she had gone to him, running all the way those ten blocks downtown, and climbed the trellis, and for those precious moments seen his eyes-the life still in them-fixed on her. Oh, Julien, I heard you calling me. I saw you. I saw the embodiment of your love. She had raised the window. She had lifted him. "Eve," he had whispered. "Evie, I want to sit up. Evie, help me, I'm dying, Evie! It's happening, it's come!" They had never known she was there. She'd crouched outside on the porch roof in the fury of the storm, listening to them. They'd never thought to even look outside as they closed the window and laid him out, and sent for everyone. And there she'd been huddled against the chimney, watching the lightning and thinking, Why don't you strike me? Why don't I die? Julien is dead. "What did he give you?" Mary Beth had asked her every time she saw her. Year after year she came. Mary Beth had stared at little Laura Lee, such a weak, thin baby, n...
View Full Document
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