y of love er tomorro.

    I, S my fatelling me incompre errifying t I . S omacing y o get out of bed and leave t hem.

    I crossed tly opened Black’s door. In t cast by my candle, I couldn’t see e mattress o reactress.

    my  of truck Black’s weary, unso  as Or curled up like a pill bug, and he expression of a sleeping maiden.

    “to myself. ant, so mucranger, t I  actually  to do suc’d be if I killed  believe s of me, neit childlike expression.

    Prodding , I led more ted and excited, if only for a moment, just as I’d ely come to his

    senses, I said:“I dreamed I sao me: You he one who killed him…”

    “eren’t ogether was murdered?”

    “I’m a you kne my fat home all alone.”

    “I did not. You  t  it. And as for er idea than I.”

    “times I feel an inner voice is about to tell me une. I open my mout voice mig as in a dream, I make no sound. You’re no longer the good and naive Black of my childhood.”

    “t naive Black her.”

    “If you’ve married me to take revenge on my fat like you.”

    “I knoo bed you airs for a wing ”Black, Black, my ass’s crack,“ loud enough so I could hear.”

    “You sing,” I said, at first  them, I’ll kill you.”

    “Get into bed,” o death.”

    “Maybe I’ll never get into your bed. Maybe ake by getting married. timacy before tsteps before I fell asleep? It’s not surprising, eps for years. t one. ake care to guard yourself against it.”

    I saern in Black’s eyes t I kne be able to scare him.