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Show Jeffries, Section 3, Page 67 vision--he saw a music of colored light on the water, a festive Yule quality to the huge showboats pausing in the straits; it looked as if all the cruise liners of the Carribean had gathered off Key Largo, across the water to him came fragments of conversation by megaphone, there was semaphore flashing, and with lanterns, creaks and groans it seemed that the vessels themselves spoke in the ancient discourse of water craft, yet, as he watched, this spontaneous party broke up, the ships darkened, and at staggered speeds moved suddenly and soberly for safe harbor to Miami and Port Everglades. Two last letters in the box. The little park ranger wrote Dory, I know it's not for me to give you orders, marching orders, that is, because I know you hold the venerable, Genesis-idea that a woman is simply a rib. But I have seen that hurricane, in a tearful dream, and on the weather show, the blades of--it rotates with the primitive mechanics of a pinwheel, and it touches down with the force of bombs. That, and what I read between the lines about your job--if you can't do it |
