I heard about it.Īre they tel ing my parents about Ky’s face on the microcard? Do they know what Grandfather gave me? I haven’t had a chance to destroy the poems yet. That happened once, in a Borough near here. They could be checking the food distribution system, house to house. For some reason I picture the blue of Ky’s eyes and I can think better, realizing that reading the situation correctly is part of getting through it safely. I hurry up the steps and hesitate at the door. Behind the plain white curtains in the window, I see figures move. The air-car’s landing gear is delicately splayed out, resting on the grass.
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