The odor of burning cloth lingers. Then I watch ABC News. I pour a glass of Jim Beam and curl up in bed with Tom Ripley. In no time, I am a willing participant in his web of deceit and murder. I fall asleep before Tom kills Dickie Greenleaf.
Feet troop up and down the hall.
Women and men laugh. The shower runs. Minutes later, the unmistakable sounds of lovemaking echo all around. Now, I am wide awake and return to Ripley. The temperature is in the low 20s.