I was a bit uneasy,remembering the proprietor's single, glittering eye that had pierced melike a bolt when he'd fixed his gaze upon me, but I needn't ...have beenconcerned, not in the least, for, upon my arrival, it was clear that thestore was deserted.It was totally and completely vacant. Not one item of merchandise, nor asingle rack or table, remained within its cavernous interior. Even thecash register and counter were gone--as was the withered, wizened,stooped old, one-eyed man who'd sold me. She was digging two holes. She was excavating one hole with each hand, and using the sand in the other hand to fill it in again. The strength required to shove her hands into the sand up to her wrists in one fast motion was immense. She was shoveling sand back and forth, about thirty times per minute.Although her eyes were on the horizon, she wasn’t seeing anything. Her mind was working overtime, trying to remember events at the frat house party. There were little flashes of memories she could. Luckily, for me, they just drove by and never turned in.I was almost halfway into this street, when I heard another car behind me. Again, hiding myself against the car next to me, I waited for what would happen. This time, the car had turned into my street, and I didn't dare to move. I hoped that they wouldn't see me.The car was driving slowly and almost came to a standstill at the car I was squatting next to. The car drove past me, and then I could see it stop ahead of me. I saw that there was. " Debbie smiled at me. "Maybe he doesn't have time, George will be waiting," I said."Oh no, I think I can spare fifteen minutes or so," he said. "If youdon't mind me joining you," he said looking towards me.Debbie answered, "No that's fine, you two sit down, I'll serve up." Eh I'll just check on Melissa," I said. Moving towards the lounge Ifound her fast asleep. I stroked her forehead and walked back to thekitchen. As Debbie poured some soup into three bowls, I sat down at thetable.Conversation.