d a few little muscles left, and that was all. Skin tight,
drumlike, against the skull. Cheeks shrunk, lips slightly parted by the
contraction of the skin. Even the wrinkles he should have had were
erased by the shrinkage of the epidermis. Even in a strong light, the
faint wrinkle lines were barely visible.

After a moment of looking at him, she put a smile back on her face and
repeated her greeting.

"I said, 'Happy New Year,' Mr. Symmes."

He raised his eyes to her for a moment, then slowly lowered them,
uncomprehendingly.

"He looks just a little bit like a caricature," she said to herself,
feeling a little more tenderness toward him. "A cute little stick man
made of leaves and twigs and old bark and ..."

* * * * *

_Shadows._ For so long there had been shadows. And for a time the
fleeting passage of dreams and past memories had been a solace. But now
the shadows were withered and old, debilitated and desiccated. They had
been sucked dry of interest long ago.

But still they flitted through his mind on crippled wings, flapping
about briefly in the now-narrowed shell of his consciousness, then
fading back among the cobwebs. Every once in a while, one of them would
return to exercise its wings.

"Did she say, 'Happy New Year?'" he wondered. "New Year's?"

And, at the thought of it, there came shadows out of the past....

* * * * *

Young Oliver Symmes laughed. The girl laughed, too. She was good to hold
in one's arms, soft like a furry animal, yielding and plush of mouth.

"I love you, Ollie," she said; the warmness of her body close against
his.

He laughed again and wrapped her in his arms. He owned her now, owned
her smile, her love for him, her mind and her wonderful body. She
belonged to him, and the thrill of ownership was strong and exciting.

"I'll always love you, Ollie. I'll love only you." She ran her fingers
in and out of his hair, caressing each strand as it went through her
fingers. "I love the strength of your arms, the firmness of your body."

Again he laughed, surrendering all his consciousness to the warm magic
of her spell.

"I love the shading of your hair and eyes, the smooth angularity of your
tallness, the red ecstasy of your mind." Her fingers slipped down the
back of his neck, playing little games with his flesh and hair. "I'll
always love you, Ollie."

He kissed her savagely.

During the daytime, there was hi