Jean tried the chain on the gated fence to the pool even though she knew it was locked. She looked around in the weedy grass until she found an old bobby pin. Bending it apart, she tried to pick the lock but it was as futile as it felt.
We are up very high, nearly 1,600 meters. It is like an island, desert all around, mountains on horizon, everything so far away. It’s beautiful, so empty. And the sky—endless blue. The light is so bright. I am writing like never before. I am almost finished with a new book. I am born again.