He was working up to a frothy spittle. I was surprised he could stand, scream poetry and hop around while dead drunk. But, then, he was always a surpr...se. Then when the last stanza came, I would slow it down as he did also."Out - out are the lights - out all!And, over each quivering form,the curtain, a funeral pall,comes down with the rush of a storm,while the angels, all pallid and wan,uprising, unveiling, affirmthat the play is the tragedy, 'Man,'and its hero the Conqueror Worm."As we. "You can't do this me; youcan't treat me like this, the woman protested. The man called "TheMaestro" grinned his handsome face beaming as he said, "Well milady, youwon't have to worry about anything like this much longer. You will be afine strapping youth. The Maestro with a curious smile on his face noddedto the young boy on an adjacent gurney and an unspoken message seemed topass between them."Myles, You're about to go where few men have gone before into the mindof a woman. You will be. More

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