When Darlene left us to our meal, I said, “Screamers, huh?” “It isn’t just the open maw,” Bridget said. “First time I saw one, I thought of that painting, The Scream. These creatures terrify me, but I also think there’s something despairing about them. If a scream ever came out of one, it would be a howl of hatred but also of blackest insanity, like an entire asylum full of mad voices all shrieking at once.”
