clear line of the husband and wife’s movement. She saw what was advancing along that path, a form that almost answered her curiosity about what the inside of her husband’s body looked like. It did look like a strange flower, without leaf or stalk or stem: a dark blossom that ambulated on the tips of its six petals, with a heavy hidden pistil that glowed an obscure red against the arterially dark curtains around it. Louise didn’t move as it approached her, as it stopped in front of Edward’s body.
