January 13th
Mordred and I sat sequestered at the back of the inn like a cabal of thieves. Initial mutual shyness meant we were uncertain how to proceed, like a courting couple left unchaperoned for the first time.
Read MoreHe squints—it’s there again—and raises his hand to shade against the setting sun’s tangerine glow. The light turns the lake an opaque black-green.
Read MoreDear Mrs. Dunne,
I feel I owe you an explanation for my sudden departure. I realise it may have come as quite a shock for you, and for that I can only apologise.
Read MoreIt was supposed to be a nice trip. That’s all I keep thinking. It was supposed to be a nice trip. I had arranged everything — down to the last detail.
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