How queer everything is today!
And yesterday things went on just as usual.
I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night?
Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning?
I almost think I can remember feeling a little different.
But if I’m not the same, the next question is,
Who in the world am I?

Ah, that’s the great puzzle!

Alice, Lewis Carroll

I have drifted off into a light doze while working but awaken to a knock at the door. “What fresh hell is this?” I plagiarize again and yell come in again, expecting Maggie this time. Who else but her or Lisa way up here? But it’s neither of them.

She comes in, looks around briefly, and walks to the table where I’m sitting by candlelight. She pulls a pack of filterless cigarettes from one of her puffy sleeves and lights up. She blows the match out in a stream of smoke and tosses it on the floor. I’m surprised that I’m not more surprised to see her.

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