The Charm
November, 1974
Come close. Closer. Lean over me. Put your ear to my mouth. I'm not strong; I think I'm dying; I can barely speak. Listen carefully. At the end of this street, at the corner, on the east side, there's a small white house with a green roof. A brick path leads to the door. Snapdragons are planted along the path. You can't miss it. There's a wreath on the door—it's old and blackened and looks like an emblem of death, but don't be put off by that, it's just an old Christmas wreath, hung there many y...
