"Hold still," she says. "I'm going to do your eyes."I feel a soft swab over my left eye lid, then the right. Then a liquid.Then something pointy, like...a pencil."Open your eyes and look up," she says.I open them and there she is, bright red smile, big blue eyes, jet blackhair, straight and silky down to her shoulders, the bangs cut in severedark line over her eyes. Such an aggressive look for her, or for anysissy."Look at the ceiling, find a spot and stay on it," she commands. I obey.She draws. "Okay," he said.He left her there. It was tempting to see if she was watching him leave, but he recognized that as being self-centered and didn't turn around to look at the room. At the laundromat he found an old Reader's Digest and went through it while he did a pitifully small load. A young woman was there, about Jennifer's age. She tried to strike up a conversation with him, asking about his motorcycle and, for once, he was unhappy that the Babe Bike did its job so well. He evaded the. More

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