“Night.” The black bird spreads its wings.

You know -- I never had that fear of the darkness that’s supposed to be so primal. So universal. Not even as a child. I think of night as a very sound plan, everyone’s sleeping coordinated like that. Maybe it’s because I never wanted to miss anything when I was a little girl. I always wanted everyone to go to bed when I did so nothing happened without me.

JS: Tell me more about being a little girl. Tell me about your mother. When you think of her what do you think of first?

MS: Her perfume. She had a specially designed cologne. Sort of peaches and ginger. (pauses, eyes closed)

She told wonderful stories. She was a folklorist; of course there wasn’t much call for that just then, but she did tell wonderful stories.

JS: Fairy tales? Fables? Myths and legends?

MS: Her specialty was captivity and revenge narratives. She was the sweetest thing; I only remember once or twice that she even raised her voice. But that woman loved a bloody revenge yarn! Never so happy as when a whole bloodline was wiped clean away.

(opening her eyes again.) She was always trying to