We do our work in the evening. She writes; I read. This is the new normal, and an offense to God. In another life, maybe we could have been colleagues, but in this one, we're heretics. I was already on the naughty list -- an adulteress, a fallen woman as Aunt Lydia used to say. But this is new territory for Serena, I think. How does she feel about falling? She seems pretty fucking happy.