081413 #worm They're back out in the street, arm in arm. How did they get here? You know how; you've done it yourself. You simply follow the obvious secret code. One touch means hello, another means I forgive you provisionally, another means we are bigger than all our petty crimes put together, and we both sense the nearness of our sun to its inevitable supernova state; let's exchange what little gifts we may, before it's way too late. It's raining, as it often does in this part of town. Sloppy yellow maple leaves go skidding dizzily in the street, brilliant against the black asphalt. Krim's shoes--alas! not black, but at least their soles are hard--go clunk, clunk, clunk over the sidewalk squares. Where are they going?