She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. We shall expect you to tell us all what to wear. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. A wedding procession turned the corner. . “I just came to you and put myself in your hands. A faint buzz above the ceiling witnessed that petrography, too, was active.
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