"Hi," he says, extending a hand. "I'm Ben Stone." I know," I say, giving his hand a firm grip.He raises an eyebrow and I laugh."The certificate on the...wall." He follows my finger and returns his gaze with a crooked smile and a shrug."Deb Donovan." What can I do for you, Ms. Donovan?" I'm interested in joining." A trial membership?" he asks, pulling a form out of one of the drawers."No, no," I assure him. "A full six-month membership."He frowns, his pen poised over the form."Can I ask your. Not that I complain. The village is lovely." And the people?" They..." she began, wincing, "can be both pleasant and harsh." Yes, your ... reputation." I have come to accept who and what I am, Mr. Tosaka." It is who you are that interests me, Mrs. Hawasawa. Others may pin labels on us, but it is what is inside us that counts, not what others may think of us." I wish that were so." It is so. My son may be young, but he is perceptive, And if I may say so, I have become a rather keen judge of. I may even have the slave piss on his/her own cereal. ??? ? For lunch I get a bit more creative. First, lots of lettuce. Then carrots, beans, perhaps tomatoes for a healthy salad. I will throw in some raw eggs. Then for a salad dressing a carefully prepared mixture. ?I always pay attention when any of my buddies get colds. I save a big jar of snot and buggers. I blow my nose in the jar as well, until it is quite full. ?Now for the salad dressing, I mix equal parts snot ?and phelgm. I also. In each, there was a hint of Jeryl watching. One was the view of a ballet from a box with the dancers caught mid-flight as they leapt across the stage. The dark, haloed image was barely visible in the wings of the stage. Another was an image of a stylized jet, either a GS-3 or a GOT, leaping from the runway. The figure was standing on the tarmac, watching it depart. Another was an obvious graduation ceremony, with most of the scene filled with mortarboard covered heads. The figure was off to.