His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above. I could tell it was Italian, you see. Gerald tried it. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. Other girls gathered around like sheep. She rapped on Michelle’s door loudly. By the time John returned with popcorn and a large Coke, the theater had filled up with high-school kids. They seemed the most wrapped things in all Ann Veronica’s wrappered world.
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