He couldn’t open up to her completely, and their relationship had been built on honesty and trust. He retreated from her beautiful mind and returned to her damaged body. Along with her unhealthy posture, her eyes seemed distracted, not steady. Skittish. Afraid she would have to present herself. She’d slowly sunk herself into a self-deprecating morass. The past year had only thickened it. Frank. Jane should have seen it coming. It was a pattern. She should have seen it when she thought of where they had met. A bar. A meat market. It was where her crowd would hang out. The publishing crowd. A nice upper east side bar, with foliage and soft rock and soft stools on which to have found new company while leaning on the third drink. Frank had saddled up to Jane’s empty stool halfway through the night. Her inebriation was just becoming apparent. She got louder and not in control, not reserved, which was more her character. The two new lovers played loose and free with glances, and arms. Eventually, the pain got to me. I used the morphine pump, and was asleep before I knew what hit me. I woke up in time for dinner, such as it was. I would be on a liquid diet for a day or so, and it wasn't much. I drank it, though. I was starved. I almost used the pump again afterwards. Not from pain, but out of sheer boredom.I was happy when sergeant Grayson dropped in for a visit. After informing me that his name was Phil, he told me about his trip to the cabin."I barely got out of there alive!", he chortled. "Those dogs of yours are something else, I tell you! I couldn't get the bag out of the window, because I couldn't open it far enough. Hell, I had to call for backup! I had a buddy take the wheel, and we did a 'drive by feeding'. I tossed it out while we were moving, so they couldn't get in. You don't have much trouble with burglars, do you?"I admitted that there hadn't been a problem for quite a while, but I thought it was because I was so far from the road. I doubt more than.
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