As I turn to face Michael, I reach down and grab as much snow as my hand will hold. I run towards him both hands held high. My arms surround his head and the back of his neck is now a receptacle for my revenge. He tumbled backwards, taking me down with him, and we
land in a heap. He landed flat on his back with me sitting across him; gazing down. Michael then reached up and pulled me down to kiss him. Inches from contact I receive the full force of his snow filled right hand square on the nose. He then rolled me over and kissed my chilled face, pecking away the drops of snow. We slid into a full lingering passionate kiss which by rights should have melted every flake of snow in the garden.

Arm in arm we make our way back into the warmth of the house. Facing, still giggling, we begin to remove each other's damp snowy outer garments. Michael took my hand and lead
me in front of the fire where we face each other again and continue our ritual disrobing. I stand just in front of him wearing only a shirt and woolly socks which he found quaintly amusing. My face drops coyly, Michael placed his fingers gently under my chin and raise
my mouth to his. We kiss and become one, the world outside fading to nothing.

The wicked infant glint contained in green eyes of mine has changed now to one of true womanly passion. The flickering flames in the hearth, illuminating my hair. Michael wrapped in my arms. The night is now ours.

Epilogue

April 17, 1999

A post card sent to: Mr. Dwight Esterhouse

121 Moose Creek Road

Appleton Pa 16537

(Delivered on a rainy spring morning)

Read:

Mr. Esterhouse,

Thank you so much for helping me locate the inkwell and pens.

The wonderful marbles and their story!

With fond memories

xxxxxxxxxxxx

(here the signature had been smudged away by the rain soaked hands

of an honest man )

Postlogue:

Lying in bed, I look up at the jar full of marbles sitting on the mantle. I wipe the pearls of anticipation from my lips, will 6:45 ever come?