The fence tends limits, breaks linear circles frozen as a rope. Rob Roy's blood plot defeats effete evil. Leaves surmount the wall restricting other worlds and fall to pieces there. Eyes blue as doll shoes, she tells the movie version but swells, stops, waits as Frank kills Nick. A cut or gully ferned drops hard into the dark like Nick's last note.
Story needs such heat freaked with murder plans.
This is called fiction in mother's night garden wet with sun. After Cora dies, it all goes blooey. Angels are heard to weep every fifth sentence. At the Desiring Vine - after Elizabeth Willis He who hesitates always gets lost. Postmodernism disrupts tradition.