In Hungarian, it's only the complicated thoughts that are short." She shrugged, and headed out of the kitchen. Oliver watched her leave. He found hims...lf feeling sorry for her. She was his wife; and he did love her. Despite all that she had done to her. ("But who doesn't do things to me?" he heard his own thoughts as if he were talking to himself.) Oliver dropped the shirt into the sink, and, wiping his hands on the dishcloth first, followed her. She was definitely moping around in a way that. Finally as he passed a pair of huge ancient oaks, acasual glance in his rear view revealed an opening cutting diagonallyback between the trees. No wonder he'd missed it the first time, it wasonly by shear luck that he saw it now. Rather than a proper driveway,gravel wheel ruts with weeds sprouting up in between wove back toward thestorage buildings.He pulled up in front of a small cinder block building. Rust stainsstreaked the formerly whitewashed walls tracing the path of years ofrainwater. More

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