"Squint," she said, "squint, then you'll see what I mean." Louise and Edward stood in the baking sunlight peering up at the red ochre drawings that covered the yellow stone cave ceiling. They each held a hand up to shade their eyes from the glare. Edward had just finished reading from a brochure that he picked up at the airport, that archaeologists hadn't yet interpreted the meaning of the paintings. Louise felt sure she could read the story in the red swirls and dots that sprawled over their heads. "Oh, for God's sake, Louie," Edward said, flapping the brochure at her, "if some PhD with sixteen degrees can't make heads or tails out of these scribbles, what makes you think you can?" She turned to him, tears glittering in her pale gray eyes and she pressed her hand to her chest. "I feel it, Edward. I don't think about it, I feel it." "Oh, for the love of..." Edward turned back toward the rental car. "You sure your box doctor won't prescribe some little pills? You're turning into a crazy woman, Louie, a real gold-plated loony." He slammed the car door and turned the key to start it cooling off. She turned to glare at him. "Fuck you, Edward." She spat out the words as if they were sand in her mouth, wondering what had ever possessed her to fall in love with him.
Don's working all day; I have high hopes for writing or rewriting, once I get all my other chores done, that is. Wish me luck.
--Barbara
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