When I Am Thickening My Plots, I

Then Carol Slipped Her Arm Under Her Neck, And All The Length Of Their Bodies Touched Fitting As If Something Had Prearranged It. Happiness Was Like A Green Vine Spreading Through Her, Stretching Fine Tendrils, Bearing Flowers Through Her Flesh. She Had A Vision Of A Pale White Flower, Shimmering As If Seen In Darkness, Or Through Water. Why Did People Talk Of Heaven, She Wondered

When I Am Thickening My Plots, I Like To Think 'what If ... What If ... ' Thus My Imagination Can Move From The Likely, Which Everyone Can Think Of, To The Unlikely-but-possible, My Preferred Plot.

Dusk Was Falling Quickly. It Was Just After 7 P.m., And The Month Was October.

One Blow In Anger [would] Kill, Probably, A Child From Aged Two To Eight. Those Over Eight Would Take Two Blows To Kill.

Every Man Is His Own Law Court And Punishes Himself Enough.