Quietness. Darkness. He was asleep. He was dreaming. It was raining, and the water dripped off the trees onto their helmets: men not from

This is what I love doing. The thought fluttered through her head, borne on a torrent of notes, as her mind drifted, her fingers left on

+++Transcription of a medical recording made by the late Dr. Andrea Evans, 8/17/1984, of the late Dr. Theodore Wilmarth, lately resident at