”—from Spring and Fall: To a Young Child, by Francine ProseYour job is to sit there and make things up, so do it.—from The Collectors, by Phil...p Pullman, Author’s NoteChapter 11: It's Cold Here[September, 1678]Oxford, OxfordshireIT IS TOO fucking cold here, Amélie thought as she stepped through the mud down Oxford’s High Street. The mud was disgusting. It didn’t matter how careful one was, there was no way to keep it from sticking. And where are the fruits? A banana? Haven’t these people. “They’re fabulous. See them, there, look…” I looked as she pressed a pink-painted fingernail against the glass. “Those gold hoops.” Now I saw them. “Ah, yes,” I said and felt her hand squeeze mine. She was clearly enthralled and my heart was captured. I wanted to please her, show that I cared and she mattered very much to me. “Would you like them?” “I’d love them,” she gushed. “But they’re gold, real gold. Can you see the price?” “No, but we can find out. C’mon,” I said and tugged her hand and. More

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