By Thoms Demijohn (Thomas Disch and John Sladek)

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And where had it got them? Where were they all gone to now—the fraternity brothers, the floozies, the high-old times? Golden lads and lasses must, Like chimney sweepers, come to dust. That was the moral of the story, if it had any moral at all. Impatiently, Roderick pressed the doorbell again, then turned back to confront the drear land of Urban Renewal... He smiled, remembering. 'They call it urban renewal,' Bessy said, chuckling and jiggling the immensity of her bosom, 'but I know what 1 call it.

She settled back into the seat to listen to the whine of the tyres on wet concrete (they were on the main highway now) and the quiet ticking of the windshield wipers. The rain was heavy now, the sky so overcast, that many of the cars on the highway had turned on their headlights. Suddenly Alice realised that she was very hungry. She hadn't had a bite since the cookies at the going-home party that morning. 'I don't know about you,' said Miss Godwin, reading her mind, 'but I'm famished. ' 'Peut-etre,' Alice replied majestically, and then giggled.

For a moment she suspected that he had stolen her trunk, but no, it was still there beside the brick wall where it had been all the time. She sat down on the trunk and made herself stop crying so that she could talk things over with Dinah like two sensible people. 'Now, for one thing,' Alice began, 'I'm quite sure he's not a priest. He doesn't look like a priest, you know. ' Dinah asked. It was Dinah's way always to be asking questions. 'A child molester,' Alice declared gravely. Neither Alice nor Dinah had any very clear idea of child molesting, but it would be a very terrible thing, to judge only from Alice's mother's guarded remarks on the subject, to fall into the hands of such a person.

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