[From <i>Flowering Judas</i>] She is, her comrades tell her, full of romantic error, for what she defines as cynicism in them is merely 'a developed… - Katherine Anne Porter

Now I must get up and go while they are all quiet. Where are my things? Things have a will of their own in this place and hide where they like. Daylight will strike a sudden blow on the roof startling them all up to their feet; faces will beam asking, Where are you going, What are you doing, What are you thinking, How do you feel, Why do you say such things, What do you mean?

The thought of him was a smoky cloud from hell that moved and crept in her head.

Schumann admitted, but only to himself that if hyenas were beautiful and could sing and dance, he would forgive them for being hyenas. But would they ever forgive him for being human?