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The only things that suggest living: a wind billows across the wreckage, the moon rises into an expanse of sky so dark it’s al down Aviation fuel starts burning the trees in the forest, the word CANCELED appears on a big black arrival board at JFK airport in New York, and the next ently over cleanup crews, church bells start ringing and psychics start calling in with tips and then the gossip begins

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I’ a Kenneth Cole leather portfolio that holds my lawbooks and a bottle of Evian water I’er jeans, a camel-hair sweater, a wool overcoat fro out of the way of Rollerbladers and avoiding clusters of Japanese NYU fil movies From a nearby booles’ "New Kid in Town," and I’ off Chris Cuo, as does Alison Poole, who On University, I run into uru and spiritual adviser, Deepak Deepak is wearing a Donna Karan suit and Diesel sunglasses, sas Perfecto," he purrs in a distinct Indian accent I purr back "Hoo-ha" ade opinions about a trendy new restaurant (oh, there are so e one into remission, how someone’s liver disease has been cured, the exorcism of a haunted town house in Graoodwill of angels

"That’s so brill, enius"

"You see that bench?" Deepak says

"Yes," I say

"You think it’s a bench," Deepak says "But it isn’t"

I smile patiently

"It’s also you," Deepak says "You, Victor, are also that bench"

Deepak bows slightly

"I know I’ve changed," I tell Deepak "I’ain

"I aeon?" Deepak asks

"Baby, I’ve gotta run," I interrupt "I’ll catch you later"

"Don’t fear the reaper, Victor," Deepak says, walking away