My old girlfriend Birdie and I were sitting together in the front room of the Gay Street House. She had apparently moved to Sciotoville and had come to visit me. We sat and talked for a long time, and I kept looking at her. She was wearing wire-framed glasses. She seemed composed, older, and wiser. The more we talked, the more I was spiritually drawn to her. I reached a point where I wanted to tell her that although I had thought I would never be able to say it again, I felt as if she and I were the same as when we used to be together, and as if I now wanted to be with her again.

She was sitting across the room from me. I looked at her right in the eye and we held each other's gaze for several minutes. It was clear to me that there was still a strong feeling between us.

I asked her where she was living and she responded that she was living in Sciotoville in a building where half the units were apartments and the other half were part of a motel. She told me her apartment had a burglar alarm in it. I mentioned that she did not like to have a place without burglar alarms.