The dream lay in ruins now. Debby missed it more than anything else in her entire life. But she could not cry for it. Her reservoir of emotions had been drained too badly that night.
A familiar hulk came jogging up to her—Chairman Mao, the Irish setter that had been the unofficial mascot of the commune. He sat down beside her with his tongue lolling out, and she stroked his back and said soothing words to him—words that she herself could not believe. She had more intelligence than a dog. But if the animal drew comfort from her words, she supposed that was enough.
The chill was getting worse. She pulled the dog over to her and tried to snuggle against it for warmth, but the dog was not very snuggly. It tried its best, but it did nothing to assuage the cold that was seeping through Debby’s
