She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. ’ Bitterness rose up as he looked at the female. She would rend him limb from limb like a fiend if only she could move. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion.
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