“Nothing's impossible," Poppet responds. She smiles at him and jumps, her red hair trailing out behind her as she falls.”

“I eat gaijin for breakfast…" His words trailed off as Jilly came out of the house, in her pseudo-frock, her combat boots, her spiky hair and her young, young face. He just stared at her, motionless, as if someone had clubbed him over the head with a mallet.Jilly froze where she was, staring back at the exotic creature in black leather and bright red hair who'd invaded the garden.”

“But her name was Esmé. She was a girl with long, long, red, red hair. Her mother braided it. The flower shop boy stood behind her and held it in his hand. Her mother cut it off and hung it from a chandelier. She was Queen. Mazishta. Her hair was black and her handmaidens dressed it with pearls and silver pins. Her flesh was golden like the desert. Her flesh was pale like cream. Her eyes were blue. Brown.”

“I’ve come by, she says, to tell youthat this is it. I’m not kidding, it’s over. this is it.I sit on the couch watching her arrangeher long red hair before my bedroommirror.She pulls her hair up andpiles it on top of her head-she lets her eyes look atmy eyes-then she drops her hair andlets it fall down in front of her face.We go to bed and I hold herspeechlessly from the backmy arm around her neckI touch her wrists and her handsfeel up to her elbowsno further.”

“I sit on the couch watching her arrangeher long red hair before my bedroommirror.she pulls her hair up andpiles it on top of her head-she lets her eyes look atmy eyes-then she drops her hair andlets it fall down in front of her face.we go to bed and I hold herspeechlessly from the backmy arm around her neckI touch her wrists and handsfeel up toher elbowsno further.”

“The images were gone, but Calvin was there, was with her, was part of her. She had moved beyond knowing him in sensory images to that place which is beyond images. Now she was kything Calvin, not red hair, or freckles, or eager blue eyes, or the glowing smile; nor was she hearing the deep voice with the occasional treble cracking; not any of this, but - Calvin.She was with Calvin, kything with every atom of her being, returning to him all the fortitude and endurance and hope which he had given her.”