Midnight arrived; still no masks, still no costumes for Jane and me. The others were reconstituting and leaving in cars; a few stragglers turned into bats and flew out the windows or up the chimney and into the blue night‘s full moon. I speculated as to how Arizona wines might affect their sonar, and recounted, at Jane’s request, a recent visit to the Museum of Jurassic Technology.
Jane‘s ride was leaving. Jane accepted another small cup of coffee for the road. She was going on a vacation next week, alone. And after that she was going out of town to work for two or three weeks. But she’d get in touch, perhaps, when she returned. I hoped we‘d still recognize each other.
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