Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. "Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. They traveled to distant places, had an apartment in Constantinople and a villa in Paris. "I say we, because Miss Rachel and I have struck up a match. And girls and women, perhaps, are different.
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