Continuing his wanderings, he found himself outside the boy’s room. Continuing his wanderings, he found himself outside the boy’s room. Moving around the tree to intersect with the boy’s eyeline, Camorra bent down, saying, “I couldn’t help but notice you drawing here. “Please, lie in front of the fire, as you would recline upon your bed as you read a letter.” He looked up to see a youthful sprawl, unashamed and open, touched by shadows and highlights that flickered, a slight sheen of sweat from the heat of the fire. Where would you have me stand?”
Smiling to himself, Camorra shook his head. Whipping the curtains back angrily, he glared outside. The fog had come in earnest, and it was almost impossible to see; only the lamplights made patches of light in the oily gloom.
