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I waited for news Every day I checked the Tiriues, avoided my friends I had turned the apartment over to Julianna and sublet a one-bedroo it easy to disappear, to recede into the fringes of life What would I do when one? I realized that in some drawer of my brain I had kept the idea that soether Perhaps they would divorce Perhaps Jonas would die Now I had no hope

Then one night, close to Christht; I had just settled into bed

"Ti" I was annoyed by the lateness of the call and did not recognize the voice

"It’s Liz"

My heart crashed into my ribs I could not forood to hear your voice Where are you?"

"I’m in Greenwich, at my mother’s"

I noted that she did not say "my parents’" Oscar was no more

"I need to see you," she said

"Of course Of course you can" I wasin the drawer for a pencil "I’ll drop everything Just tellthe train into the city the next day She had so to do first, and we planned to meet at Grand Central at five o’clock, before she returned to Greenwich

I leftto arrive first It had rained all day, but as the early winter darkness fell, the rain changed to snow The subas ja in slow motion I arrived at the station and took my position beneath the clock with minutes to spare The heedless crowds streamed by--commuters in raincoats with u shoes over their stockings, snow clinging to everyone’s hair Many were carrying shopping bags brightly decorated for the season Macy’s Nordstroht of these happy, hopeful people irritated me more than I can say How could they think about Christ at all? Didn’t they knoas about to happen in this place?

Then she appeared The sight of her nearly undidsleep She earing a dark trench coat; a silk scarf covered her hair She threaded her way towardmobs It was absurd, but I was afraid that she would never make it, that the croould s her, as in a dreaesture behind the back of aher path I pushed my way to her

"And there you are," she said

What folloas the war of my life Just the smell of her drownedI felt Every bone, every edge of her pressed againsta bird