Issue 50, Fall 1970
I am convinced that if I died she would be really annoyed. So when I realized this—that die “real” is actual and potential —I could swing both bodies at once. And one morning on the broad avenue I did and she was there. Her reaction—whirrr clikk—pure nonchalance, walking along as if she were totally somewhere else holding hands with a moth. The sheerest nerve can catch die smallest thought. Read on and learn why.