I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. For Ruth was in love, tenderly and beautifully in love; but she did not know how to express it beyond the fetch and carry phase. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put upon the word “lover. He looked distant, irritated. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else.
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