The old woman knew they were coming well before she heard the sound of the engine and the banging of the truck chassis as it bounced along the rutted dirt road. The dogs had been carrying on for several minutes. When they started their baying she put down the book she was reading and stepped quickly to the kitchen to get a pot of water going for tea or instant coffee. She wondered how many would come this time.
Stopping briefly in front of the mirror hanging in the dog-trot to check that her gray bun was neat, she stepped out onto the porch, hushed the dogs, and stood there, waiting, one hand shielding her pale blue eyes from the setting sun