He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. “I look older. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. Fifty in advance. Even Lucy’s bra and panties, the ubiquitous polyester underwire and matching cotton bikini briefs from Kmart, were gone. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral. You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you had done. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. “I’ll turn you here. ‘I do not understand you. With what airs we human atoms invest ourselves! What ridiculous fancies of our importance! We believe we have destinies, when we have only destinations: that we are something immortal, when each of us is in truth only the repository of a dream. "Would I had never seen either of you!" cried Jack, rising and pacing the apartment with a hurried step. ” He leaned back in his chair as though wearied.
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