After a house showing and an unexpected trip to the vet this evening, here are six slightly belated sentences for Sunday, June 29:
I am so sorry. Really and heartily, I am.
I’m sorry that my wretched life was ever twined with his. I’m sorry he clambered into my house under the pretense of friendship and I’m sorry that my husband trusted him and I’m sorry that he crept into the dark yearning garden that night and held me down until my lungs ached, until my legs stopped thrashing and I lay still.
Is that right?
Is that what I was supposed to say?