He congratulated me on my discipline and asked to look at what I had written.“I can’t read this,” he said. “I don’t know your writing.”“...ould you like me to teach you?” I asked.“I would.”We sat, cross-legged on the floor, facing each other. I leaned toward him until our foreheads touched. He wrapped his antennae around my head and again I fell into a trance -- an out-of-body, floating experience. I don’t think I was under his thrall for very long -- maybe now that he knows my language, learning. I ordered a Perrier and sat back to wait."Jane?" asked a voice. It belonged to a dark haired woman who I guessedwas in her thirties. She was quite tall and slender, but not thin. Shetoo wore a skirt and blouse. Her face beamed down at me as she smiledgently."Are you Cynthia?" I asked. "Yes," she replied. "Have you been waitinglong? How nice to meet you. I am glad I did decide to respond to yourad." Sit down," I said.She sat down opposite me and told me that this was the first time she. More

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