The Dusky Maiden’s Lair

Not thirty minutes after he returned from church services in Sedona where the singing of Amazing Grace helped him and his fellow congregates celebrate what successful wretches they were, James Whitsell, our long-time neighbor and friend, did the most wretched thing of his life: he died. Now, given the assumed advantage of popping off when one is primed with repentance, it might be considered fortunate in most circles to expire upon one’s return from church, or, as in James’ case, shortly after. And we Islanders are not such hardened souls as to deny a man improving his chances any chance…