Breathing was painful. At first, everything was out of focus. Then Amelia’s face swam into sharpness. Smoky eyes behind frameless glasses looked at ...e, and she burst into tears.My pain and discomfort were forgotten.“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” I begged. Amelia looked awful; hair, usually so soft and feathery, was limp. She was so pale.Lifting her glasses, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, gave me a half-hearted smile, and reached for my hand. Her touch was delicate and her hand. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was that the pile of junk stacked near the closet on the far side of the room had grown, the hallmark of Ed's return. I sat up, and noticed that I had been sleeping with Amanda's panties clutched in my left hand, up against my face. I noticed Ed, too, under my loft, who had apparently taken the liberty of turning off my stereo and plugging in my computer. He was playing Doom, of course."Ed!", I said, in our traditional greeting. "Sam!" came. More

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