The boy doesn't know it, but I dug into his trunk for something to identify him and stumbled upon some manuscripts. "Been to those places?" "No. She put her hand in his to be squeezed. But if not himself, there would be another soon enough. And in these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked a bitter truth—she was alone. Wood. I must have been very wound up. He drew her closer.
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