She called herself Mrs, Potter and explained to me our conversation wasan echo of a conversation we 'might' have at some future date. I havegot to adm...t, because of what I had seen, I was not really listening. Iwas nearly hysterical, crying and demanding to know if it was real andwould happen the way I had foreseen. Calming me, she assured me therewas a way to escape. As she put it, a nexus was forming and I would havea choice. Making the correct choice would involve me sacrificing manyhopes. In the midst of affrighting darkness, I advanced with well-calculated movements, knowing that tripping down would make certain fatal consequences. My lungs stinging, I stumbled on a deserted road and waited for what seemed like generations before a dawdling cab finally surfaced from the east. It streamed the tar with blinding lights, filling me with sudden hope. I squirmed delightfully in the same way those ragged men and women did every time they saw me walking towards them, burdened with. More

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