ABSTRACT
“Suzanne, beware of the devil …” Patrick was singing suddenly, almost in full voice. He wasn’t sure where it had come from. “Don’t let him spoil your heart.” Deirdre had gone for a run, would be gone for an hour or more. Patrick was in the flat alone, lying down for once on the couch, his legs stretched out below him, crossed, rocking back-and-forth. “Suzanne, beware of the devil, don’t let him pull us apart.” He stopped, realizing that those were the only lyrics of the song he knew. He sang them again, and once again.
