End of conversation.Well, no.Saturday evening, I arrived at Connie's apartment a half-hour early, as is my wont. She answered the door dressed not at ...ll prepared for dinner. She made no move to invite me in."Hi," I said, warily."Goodbye, asshole," she seethed, and closed the door.Well, that was different.I knocked again. Twice, three times. The door finally opened. She was clearly crying and angry. "What do you want? I want you to go!" she spat."Connie," I stammered, "what did I do?" You told. “My dear,” she said. “You don’t look at all well.”The bus lurched again and Rebecca nearly lost control, choking and coughing. Her companion offered a handkerchief, but it smelled of a sickly sweet perfume that doubled the effect of her nausea. Then the bus finally slowed to a stop.“There is a cure for this sort of thing, dear,” went on the old woman as they left the bus.Rebecca gasped in a deep breath, attempting to inhale the whole out of doors, only to find that she was squarely in the. More

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