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Wednesday, November 24, 2010


Running into Millie was upsetting, to put it
mildly. Here I thought she was dead all this time.
She knows where I live, that is obvious,
accosting me as she did right outside my brownstone.
Then again, why would she not know? We lived here
together once.
“Gus, we have to talk,” said the ancient but
elegant woman on the sidewalk in front of my stoop,
wrapped in a white cloth coat against the chill.