People talk about bottling up a moment in time or preserving a thought in amber: this is mine.While I wait for the sun to shine again, I thumb the not...paper.I feel the fuzziness of the note's edges. Consider the blue pen she used. Where she sat when she wrote it. Her stylized handwriting, where the letter "a" resembles a "2." How the descenders on the "g" and "y" drop down almost two lines. The backward slant of the letters –- like she's a left-hander who writes with her right hand. It's the. Instead she carped at everyone and did her best to humiliate them. Again the others complained but Robert said nothing until the last barrow load. "Thanks for your help Claire," Brenda said sarcastically as she wheeled it towards the mound. "It was my pleasure dear," Claire laughed, "Sorry but I'm allergic to the smell. You had your pleasures yesterday?" She hadn't seen Robert move behind her. "Bastard! Put me down! You've no right to make me work! Where are you taking me?NO!" They stood on the. More

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