" She's not my girl, Mom. She's just a really good friend."Ms. Raymond invited her to come and sit down in the living room."We're in a lot of classes ...ogether," Tina said. "And we talk a lot." She knows, Mom."Sandra's face fell."I don't think we should..."Eric interrupted and explained that he had asked Tina over because sheunderstood his situation. When his mother started to protest, he said,"Mom, you have to accept that this is who I am. I've been this way foras long as I can remember, and. Tofu made one last pass of his hands over the work of clay-with-bronze-needles that could now, at best, be called abstract. He read its lumpy surface as a phrenologist reads the head. One last push, and he was satisfied that the true character of the present situation was ready to be read.But it wasn't from the swellings in the misshapen mass he would read. The black-green lines within the red clay (with specks of yellow) seemed to form very idiosyncratic sousho/cursive ideograms. "Hmm..."Three. More

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