You don’t go around pissing your pants, do you? That’s ’cause your brain can voluntarily shut your sphincters. Those yogi freaks in India can pu... their hands at two different temperatures or change their heartbeat rate at will. I can do the same with my buddy here."Bending over, he accurately spit on the head that stubbornly swung around like a sinewy boxer that refused to collapse after a fabulous battering. He hit the moving target with his spit. That was yet another of the unique exploits. Big. I mean tall, solid looking. Roman nose that catches your eye. Curly hair. Not a sitcom type. But I look at her. Something there. The tan. She gets outside, somewhere. Beautiful skin. Not as dark as last summer, though, probably because it's been raining so long we're going to need an ark. Wearing a sweatshirt and jeans under her raincoat.She's been in the little room for ten or fifteen minutes when she pokes her head around the corner and says, "Hey, Abe, can I dump my raincoat. A bathroom was tucked behind the door. No extra furniture, no chairs, no tables, no desks. Just enough for somebody to get some sleep or ... whatever. Jerry’s hand tugged her inside as he flipped the light switch on. She found herself standing in front of the mirror over the dresser. She turned to face him as he closed the door and slipped the chain on the latch.She was suddenly speechless. Her mind whirled. She had been married to Jerry for over nineteen years; they had been together as a. “But if they are artificial, then why aren’t they evenly spaced instead of this almost haphazard field of them. Some are grouped at 3.6 meters, others at 10.1, yet others are positioned at seemingly random distances. The ones I’ve examined vary in thickness from 2.2 meters to slightly more than five. If this place is artificial – which it most certainly has to be – then why aren’t the distances between the columns uniform?”“Field?” he asked.“Well, I can’t seem to arrive at a better term,” she.