“It’s all right,” I said, spying what was inside his bag. “Went grocery shopping?”“I picked up a few things,” he said amicably, but then a silence stretched out between us. I got my key out, wanting to say so much more but not knowing where to start. “I see you did too.”Oh my God. I covered up the side of my bag, even though I knew he’d already seen the big yellow rooster with Cocks-A-Lot emblazoned on the side. I really had to have a word with Terry about his packaging.”

“So I got my stuff and the girl at the register puts these other things in my bag, too. Little free samples: gum and a comb and a marker pen. So I says to her, 'Look, girlie, I got false teeth and I wear a wig.' So she fishes back in my bag and takes out the comb and the gum. Left the pen in there. Anyways, I went back to the van, even though I knew it was locked. Figured I'd just wait and have a smoke. You can't smoke in the van, see? So while I'm waiting there, minding my own business, this car pulls into the handicapped space right next to us--brand-new car, white and clean, and it's got this bumper sticker on it that says, 'Life Is a Shit Sandwich.' Isn't that stupid? So this guy gets out--good-lookin' fella, in his twenties. I say to him, 'Hey, handsome, tell me something.' He takes a look at my walker and gets all panicky. 'I'm just running in for two seconds,' he says. See, he thinks I'm going to yell at him for parking in a handicapped space, but I ain't. I don't give a rat's ass about that, you see. I'd rather walk the extra ten feet than be called handicapped. Where was I?'She amazed me. 'Life's a shit sandwich,' I said.'Oh, yeah. Right. So that guy goes runnin' into the store and here's what I did. I fished that free pen out of the bag and marched right over there to that bumper of his. Got myself right down on the ground--and I wrote--just after the 'Life's a shit sandwich' part--I wrote, 'But only if you're a shithead.' 'Course, then I couldn't get myself back up again--had to yell over to a couple of kids at the phone booth to come pick me back up.”

“Money in hand, I glanced up to find Glenn eyeing a rack of stuffed rats. As the salesman rang up my purchase, Glenn leaned close and, still staring at the rats, whispered, “What are those used for?”“I have no idea.” I got my receipt and jammed everything in my bag…Glenn surprised me by opening the car door for me, and as I settled in the seat, he leaned against the frame of the open window. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and strode inside. He was out in a moment with a small white bag. I watched him cross in front of the car—wondering. Timing himself between the traffic, he opened the door and slid in behind the wheel. “Well?” I asked as he set the package between us. “What did you get?” Glenn started the car and pulled out into traffic. “A stuffed rat.”“Oh,” I said, surprised. What the devil was he going to do with it? Even I didn’t know what it was for. I was dying to ask all the way to the FIB building but managed to keep my mouth shut even as we slipped into the cold shade of their underground parking.”

“Oh...my...god,"Drew whimpered."Who..."Anubis ignored her (bless him for that) and held out his elbow for me - a sweet old-fashioned gesture." May I have this dance?""I suppose," I said,as non committally as I could. I looped my arm through his, and we left the Plastic Bags behind us, all of them muttering,"Oh my god! Oh my god!"No ,actually, I wanted to say. He's my amazingly hot boy god. Find your own.”

“So are you comin' back with me or what?"Megan lifted her head and sighed. "I have a few conditions.""Shoulda known," Doug said, rolling his eyes."First of all, I did not sign up for a truck stop bathroom," Megan said. "You guys need to start cleaning up after yourselves in there. No more blood, no more hair, no more stains that I don't even want to identify.""All right, all right," Doug said. "That it?""Hardly," Megan said. "I want a hands-off rule on all my stuff. Including my bike.""Okay...""And I want everyone to stop calling me Megan C Cups behind my back."Doug's jaw went slack as he flushed. "How did you know about that?"Megan raised her eyebrows."All right, fine.”

“After it had all been explained to me, my first thought was for poor oldMohammed. He had to go to the mountains, but not Anna. She neither went to the mountains nor did she fetch the mountain to her she merely said "Scat." And they scatted. Mind you, although I knew by then that the mountains were not really there, and that I could move about freely and unhampered, there are occasions not many, I'm glad to say when I get the distinct feeling that I've been brought up pretty sharpish-like by a clunk on the head. It certainly feels as if I have walked into a mountain, even though I can't see it. Perhaps one day I shall be able to walk about freely, without ducking occasionally.As for my problem about the heres and the theres, the explanation went like this:"Where are you?" she had said. "Here, of course," I replied."Where's me then?""There!""Where do you know about me?" "Inside myself someplace.""Then you know my middle in your middle.""Yes, I suppose so.""Then you know Mister God in my middle in your middle, and everything you know,every person you know, you know in your middle. Every person and everything thatyou know has got Mister God in his middle, and so you have got his Mister God in your middle too. It's easy.”