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"I didn't see her again," he shrugged with a glance at Eva, undoing the three buttons holding his shirt closed and peeling the white silk from his bod....The rain grew very loud and the wind had picked up, but there was no thunder or lightning, nothing like that. Once I was almost sort of dry, Eva gave the towel to her brother and started lifting my t-shirt. I might have protested, but it was fun and I didn't mind. I had to lift my arms and bend over, giggling along with Eva as the cotton was. Withered and battered by time and excess, her body ached to the marrow of her bones; there were times when only her trusty staff maintained her equilibrium and kept her aright. The elder local folk called crone and eccentric, some quietly referred to her as "The Witch," sensed, no, she felt, there was someone, or some thing, following close on her heels. Behind her, as she shuffled slowly through the new-fallen snow, that some one, or thing, was watching her every move very closely. The one who. More

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