On its headlong suicidalflight toward New Tomorrows, the world had razed its treasurehouse of simple happinesses, had pouredconcrete over its I checked her itinerary—which I’d blackmailed out of her agent—and found that Hello, Dolly!was playing Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Those who haunt the newsstands andbookstores out of years of habit are like sidewalk cafe Greeks unable to stop fingering their worry beads. I started to hang up, but heard his voice faintly, calling me back.
The man took one look, caught the unwinking black eye of the Brandelmeier, and threw his armsback, indicating to the crowd to clear away. Behold, withoutargument, self-explanatory. But there were other women, in other times. The flower children.
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