Ruby couldn’t care less about the thorns stabbing her hands and face. She forgot about her runaway puppy. She did care about the dead man swinging i... the wind, dangling from a poplar tree. Many years ago, Ruby had been a Sunday school teacher. She seemed to remember the crucifixion cross was hammered together from two lengths of poplar wood. The rope creaked again: a tortured sound. From where she had landed on her bony behind on the sloping riverbank, she stared up at the pendulous corpse. The. “I’ve brought you a cup of tea; are you going to be long?” Linzi asked as she put the cup on my desk.“Em, no,” I stuttered, “I’m nearly finished.” I looked at her, the picture of innocence, dressed in a short blue skirt and white blouse. She was gorgeous, still the beauty that I’d fallen in love with, six years ago. Perhaps the skirt was a little tighter and shorter, than I’d realised, and she was showing a touch more cleavage, than she used to.‘My God!’ she’d changed before my eyes, and I had. More

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