I smell roses. That's what they are. They're rose stems. Ican feel them with my bare fingertips. I look down. The haze is gonewhen I do that. I'm look...ng down at my left hand in a pair offingerless gloves. I'm clasping a small bouquet of white roses wrappedtightly in white silk and tissue paper.I feel movement by my shoulders. That's easy to tell because they arebare. I think that my shoulders and my neck are the only part of mebesides my fingers that don't have anything on them. The hands. While my condo had limited access, this house felt like a sieve of potential access even as remotely located as it was.The sounds of the house that Marge had talked about scaring away other buyers didn’t bother me much after a few days and nights. That was probably the conditioning I experienced from the many times my family visited my grandparents homestead in rural Iowa. The house and barn were both real creekers and groaned with expansion and contraction in weather changes. That. More

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