A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. It pained Lucy to see Mike eating so sparely. The sky was dripping a wet, slow rain that had forced the city’s inhabitants into taxicabs and dingy cafeterias, the day wholly ruined for all except the insane schizophrenics and her. Lucy dug out an old light gray cotton miniskirt that had shrunk on Shari in the wash.
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