She said no. Well, she was still nice to look at. I still stopped, and one day in June there was a sudden shower. I had prepared for it by carry...ng an umbrella, and she hadn't. I liked to carry tent-umbrellas, the sort that open to six feet across, and I offered to walk her up to the Art Institute. She accepted. By holding the umbrella up high and between us we could walk without quite touching or getting very wet. By the end of the trip, as she was going through the door to wait. “I see your awake,” his deep sounding voice replied. She estimated that he had to be well under five foot tall. Maybe four foot-six or even shorter.“Where am I?”“You were in a plane crash.”She nodded her head, “But where?”“The interior of Alaska, about one hundred miles south of Barrow.Do you want something to eat?”“Not now,” her voice slowly returned. “I’m thirsty and need something for the pain. When I was out, I didn’t feel it.”“That’s because I’ve been giving you shots of morphine,” he. More

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