The Dead Past

Cover The Dead Past
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Genres: Fiction
Anubis never strayed from her side, gazing over the yard like he was lord of the manor.
Once again I was taken by how much they occasionally acted as parts of the same being, the Rottweiler's muscle and ferocity tied in an odd fashion to my grandmother's cool depth of intelligence and character. Six years together had taught them to move as one, the dog's paws never getting caught beneath the tires of her wheelchair, and Anna rarely having to move her hand more than a few inches to pat Anubis'
...head. Even the similarity of their names seemed a symbiosis of some kind.
At sixty-eight, Anna Kendrick was as lovely as any woman twenty years her junior. She had that handsome, womanly quality that lasts long after nubile waifs have lost their giggly, lip-nibbling charm. In the three decades since her husband had died, my grandmother had been offered more marriage proposals than the entire ladies' auxiliary rotary club.
As an adolescent, her hair had been the sharply yellow color of whey, and then in her teenage years it had changed to a premature, full and beautiful silver.
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