A life in boxesAfter my visit with Clarice yesterday, I scoured Georgia’s room for any kind of evidence that she had been as wild as Clarice suggest...d. Nothing. No sign of that necklace either. I finished packing the room into boxes about eight o’clock, after Grover ordered in some Chinese food. It’s sad to see a room that held so much of a woman’s life all put into boxes. They were labeled neatly with either ‘Goodwill’ or ‘Attic.’ Anything that had no market or sentimental value was already. Each time we’d set a tentative date and time to go down to the beach, it would be just too cold. Our house sat an intersection where two main roads split. The “front” yard, therefore, was shaped like a triangle. The owners had installed a tall wooden fence around the yard for their own privacy and to keep the noise level from passing cars to a minimum. The first warm night in May, Sarah suggested that we go out into the yard, spread out a blanket and enjoy each other. The problem was that our. More

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