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The Mailer Review/Volume 13, 2019/Silent Night: Difference between revisions

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And then I imagined the safety of my room, the contents of my bureau drawers, the smell of the blanket on my bed.
And then I imagined the safety of my room, the contents of my bureau drawers, the smell of the blanket on my bed.
Back on the road, someone approached, a figure who appeared out of the darkness and stepped up to the fence, whose features, lit by the flare of a lighter, became Paul Ruskin’s.
“Carol,” he called, his voice gentle, and coaxing. “What are you doing?”
I had avoided Paul for a year, and I didn’t want to see him, but though I resisted, Carol pulled me back with her toward the road.




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