Bailey's image of me was simply too bizarre.She saw me as strong. That much was true. She saw me as a leader - nottechnically incorrect. But she also ...aw me as being of mercy andkindness, at least if I was interpreting her messages right. Her "word"for mercy was a gentle, soothing sensation that chased away the pain,while kindness was conveyed through the pleasent sensations of a handrunning through one's hair.I took out your whole pack. I sent her images of the battlefield, and allthat I had. This war, he thought, so different. He thanked God his son had somehow come home in one piece, physically, at least. Angelina walked in, the small bell on the store’s door announcing her arrival and she approached Signor Silvestri, basket in hand. ‘Buon giorno, signora. Sta bene?’ he asked, truly interested in the young widow. ‘Si, si… do you… is that your son? I heard he had come back.’ She turned and looked at Jim, who had ignored her arrival and continued putting up boxes of spaghetti. ‘Yes,. More

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