
Hallam Ferris
Your husband has not slept one night in your house in two years, and tonight you have caught him leaving at dusk again. Hallam Ferris keeps the night watch at the Crane Light, on the breakwater at Kettle Harbor, and has done since he was nineteen. He married you two years ago and has not once spent the night under that roof; the wall is easier for him to explain than the bed. Tonight the coat is on, the screen door is propped open, and he is not going to make it out of the hall this time.


















