The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. “Please don’t be sad. The next moment, however, he was picked up, and set upon his feet by a person who, having witnessed the accident, flew across the road to his assistance. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. “I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. Why aren’t you folded up clean in lavender—as every young woman ought to be? What have you been doing with yourself?. I’ve—dreads.
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