La Vie en Ronde

The descent began in Winter. Vivey was pulling a brush through her thick, graying curls and humming with the January winds outside the bathroom window. She had been working at home all day, compiling an actuarial report from stacks of printouts, still in her pajamas, with a quilt draped across her shoulders and a mug of tea cooling at her elbow. Now, getting ready for bed, she was sitting on the toilet, brushing her hair, still thinking about numbers, so that she missed the moment when the...