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A
red
neon
sign
flickered
dimly
,
buzzed
like
a
dying
insect
,
as
they
passed
.
Baked
and
white
,
the
long
avenues
lay
ahead
.
Blowing
and
tall
in
a
wind
that
touched
only
their
leafy
summits
,
the
trees
stood
on
either
side
of
the
three
small
women
.
Seen
from
the
courthouse
peak
,
they
appeared
like
three
thistles
far
away
.
"
First
,
we
’
ll
walk
you
home
,
Francine
.
"
"
No
,
I
’
ll
walk
you
home
.
"
"
Don
’
t
be
silly
.
You
live
way
out
at
Electric
Park
.
If
you
walked
me
home
you
’
d
have
to
come
back
across
the
ravine
alone
,
yourself
.
And
if
so
much
as
a
leaf
fell
on
you
,
you
’
d
drop
dead
.
"
Francine
said
,
"
I
can
stay
the
night
at
your
house
.
You
’
re
the
pretty
one
!
"
And
so
they
walked
,
they
drifted
like
three
prim
clothes
forms
over
a
moonlit
sea
of
lawn
and
concrete
,
Lavinia
watching
the
black
trees
Bit
by
each
side
of
her
,
listening
to
the
voices
of
her
friends
murmuring
,
trying
to
laugh
;
and
the
night
seemed
to
quicken
,
they
seemed
to
run
while
walking
slowly
,
everything
seemed
fast
and
the
color
of
hot
snow
.
"
Let
’
s
sing
,
"
said
Lavinia
.
They
sang
,
"
Shine
On
,
Shine
On
,
Harvest
Moon
.
.
.
"
