Sandra sat in the place with the chairs, staring intently at them. Each fixture represented a person with whom she had shared intimacy of emotion and sometimes, intimacy of the body. But they had parted company from her, as they found they were walking hand in hand on parallel paths that suddenly wound away into opposing distances. But Sandra's imagination was lively. She thought of faces she had known, summoned auras out of the aftertaste that lingered in her. When all the seats were filled the party began, and Sandra was the guest of honor. They sang songs to her, served her drinks, showered her with conversations which had begun way back when, but were never finished. When the last glass was empty, and the last word spoken, and the last kiss placed, her friends found it was time to return, some to the deep dream of sleep, some to a daytime reverie or the sudden remembrance of their dear friend Sandra who in reality had never existed.

Story #243