From Part One of Retrograde, Wanderer
Though he was now husky, and his clothing underscored a lack of vitality, even a haggardness, still when he pivoted to walk back up toward town center, he did so with the elegance and poise of a dancer--and this was no coincidence. Even having let himself go quite a bit in the past couple of years, he walked with a purposeful bounce, an inherent deliberateness. Passing by the trinket shop that fronted the street and creek on two sides, he took on the gate of a man about to get something over with. Past an empty store front and then past the chamber of commerce, he turned onto Middle Street. A new car was parked on the street in front of the office he was about to help close for business. The last client, Evan surmised.
From Part Two of Retrograde, Wanderer
Now Evan listened to the vintage 56K modem connect to a remote server and download his latest e-mail. Simultaneously, he opened up his draft folder to a document with the subject line: Notice of Voluntary Suspension of Membership.
The document read as follows:
Dear Worshipful Master, Sojourner’s Lodge No. 103
With due respect, and gratitude for the brotherhood and fellowship I have often enjoyed in the Lodge, I respectfully withdraw my membership. For a variety of reasons, which I am more than willing to discuss if you desire clarification, I cannot continue as a member of Freemasonry. In good conscience, I hereby withdraw my membership. Simply put, I do not feel that this is either the civic or theological home for me ... You also have my word as gentleman, that I will never share with others those secrets of the Lodge which I was provided as part of my membership, Again, if you have any questions, please feel free to write or call me. But I must cease my formal association with the fraternity, effective immediately.
Evan Lawrence Morgan
From Part Three of Retrograde, Wanderer
“Don’t name him,” the suddenly impish Phil said. Evan whirled again toward miniature Marlotte. “Why must you name him? Why must you ravage every last sacred tale? Let some things remain mysterious and fabled. Your brain will feel so much better.” And now he, they both, stood in a cold horizontal pillar of cobalt haze. Marlotte shivered and then spoke again. “Evan, this universe is getting so cold. It’s moving too fast away from itself. It’s…it’s…” Evan stumbled forward and then back. The sun turned cool blue and icy like a crystal sphere. Then Phil dropped down into a crouch and slammed the backs of his hands on the dirt drive so that they shattered into ice shards. “It’s too architect-damned cold!”