I feel myself begin to drift. I’m not quite awake, but nor am I fast asleep. If I could muster the energy, perhaps I could focus on nature or poetry...or the housing problem; instead, only the recent past, only last night (assuming it is actually morning) has the power to flow aimlessly through my mind.I’m in another room. Loud music assails my ears. The music makes it hard to hear the voices. All is dark, but I am far from alone.I am bent forward, resting my hands on some kind of ledge. My skirt. "You can kiss each other more once Jason is in the chair," said MissPresswell, unsmiling but not severe either. Jason had a nice feeling thatshe was pleased with him. She took his hand while she operated a remotein her hand, and a set of curtains pulled upwards and outwards on cords,revealing a big pink chair.Ohhhhh, Jason loved it at first sight. All pink satin cushions and hereand there a glimpse of the gilded frame. Out of the corner of his eye hecaught sight of Penelope's reaction, which. More

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