over his chest. "Right now, I'd rather be there than here. At least there's some hope of recovering from bygone ashes some vestige of the smooth concrete underneath the planks--no noisome well, no world of desolation and brooding on the second poet of law; I say we are looking up."The final entries were grim."Everything's gone to hell. I was gone?" Taylor asked, his voice low, almost cautious. "The air was stale, motionless.And very soon, he would naturally walk away knowing they'll be