“Red field,” she was saying and what it brought to mind was like a field of thick reddish grass like what you might see in a painting of some distant countryside somewhere. That, or it was like a field which had caught fire–ablaze is what they’d call it–radiating a deep red hue there in the twilight. “Redfield,” she said again and that’s when I understood it was a name. A man’s most likely. For a second my brain even latched onto the idea of another lover–like how in movies they’re always accidentally confessing to secret affairs–but there was a kinda fearfulness in her voice that made me decide otherwise.
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