13/03/2026 04:31

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Then, still shaking, Iturned and stared at myself in the mirror over the washbasin. From the top I could see a wide swath of TR-90--woods andfields and barns and farms, even a darkling gleam from the lake. By then they didn'thave that many friends. I had to restrain my ownsmile at the way she said this--as if decades of experience now laybetween that naive, frightened child and this mature woman with themail-order diploma.

Yes indeed. This was followedby a rushing wind-tunnel shriek that I recognized: I'd heard it in themiddle of the night. The Village Cafe would bebetter--if it was still doing business. There hadbeen a rail--presumably to guide those who'd made a heavy night of itsafely back to shore--but it was gone now.