The rope was as dusty as the turban had been. Its ends had been neatly whipped with twine and then waxed. Gregg uncoiled it. It was a couple of metres...long but there seemed nothing remarkable about it.Gregg looked into the basked to see if there was anything else. Right at the bottom, it looked like there was some sort of magazine and, sitting on top of it, about the size of his fist, a small brown paper packet. He took them out. There was nothing else in the basket but his two final finds. A young girl on the table. I see her step out of her body. The Lightabove us both. She goes upward, I linger. I look down at her form, shelooks so young, so wounded. I bend down and kiss her forehead. They applya shock to her chest.....I wake up shouting. A woman's voice beside me tries to comfort me. I feelher hand on my shoulder and say, "Mom?" Yes dear, I am here," she says. I look at her. I don't recognize her atall. I flinch, pull back from her hand, and even before I can stop thewords I. More

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