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. (“No, no. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. “Don’t come nearer!” she said. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. I wanted you to know. "Let us fly from this frightful place.
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