The doorway framed her like the one that framed John Wayne in "The Searchers." Lilacs were blooming in the dooryard. Cherry Blossom wore her mauve gingham grannydress. A string of cowry shells overlapped a string of lapis lazuli stones around her Audrey Hepburn throat. Her silhouette accented the arch of her slim hips. Brother Ambrose crooked his finger in bidding and she strode forth, into the owl light.
He was adept at this. Accomplishing what a million widowed men desired. A golden necromancy, available only to soul mates.
"How have you been, darling?" he asked, offering her a mug of chai.
She smiled lovingly. "The same as you."
*
A gossimer touch, his finger rested upon the wound in her breast. Bloodlessly he found her dead heart.
"How does that feel?"
"Sweet as one of your kisses."
Oh, this was beyond belief!
Night had fallen beyond the door. A whipoorwill called to them.
By then they were making profound love.
In the cabin deep in Oregon so long ago.
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