NARRATIVE of WARD COURIER

March, 2010

ELLICOTTVILLE, NY

It was midnight. Lys was showing all the signs of having had too long a day. She looked so tired that she was crestfallen. It was as if she had started thinking the same thing I had: that it was a waste to be in that town on that night with somebody you didn't care about and weren't interested in making love with. We left for our lodge.

We passed fellow revelers, low and gritty snowbanks, and grey ...