”As a child she was allowed to wear the pendant occasionally as a treat, but when Anita turned sixteen her grandmother gave her the silver dodo and told her it was hers to keep. Standing still let the spring winter chill through his wolf-pelt coat, and he hopped up and down, rubbing his hands together. Yet the yearning to rejoin the rest of the human race on Venus burned in his chest like angina. There were cameras everywhere.
Lovingly, he patted the top of Little Bill’s head. “No, wait,” he says. The stream is straight ahead, the bank cut into a long ugly ramp, rocks and concrete slabs creating shallow water where horses can ford. The woman I remembered as elegant had spent her last years in blue jeans, flannel shirts, frayed cardigans and battered shoes.
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