TONY VISUALIZES that the jagged stone in his hand carries all his troubles. Closing his eyes, he throws it arching aloft as hard as he can. With a deep breath, Tony centers on an image of his worries rocketing into outer space and exploding in the void. At that climatic instant, he hears a metallic thud, like something heavy impacting a car hood. A short burst from a police siren follows. Tony does not open his eyes.

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BEATIFIC RAPTURE radiates from Little Rudy’s face. In passing, the old guy feels that smile illuminating his own face. He is suddenly aware of the crush of unfamiliar people, vast spaces, echoing noise, bright colors and overpowering odors of the place. Flashing back, he is Little Rudy beneath a forest of grown ups, clinging to his mother to steady against the overwhelming exhilaration of riding the moving staircase.

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MILO DOESN’T KNOW what’s more annoying: The racing staccato voice of the non-stop-talking-woman at the restaurant, or his obsession with framing an ultimate put down he will never share with her. He remembers a vocal exercise where you speak the alphabet as many times as you can in one breath. The scary part is, she talks just like that. Hasty operatic breaths between. He starts counting her respirations. Irritating!

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