Book3:WereMyDreamIs

enevermissedlivelyoccasionslikethese,fullofhustleandbustle.Hewouldpushhiswayintothecrowdtolistelytotheperformance,hisfoottappingihemusidthenhewouldgetoutofthecrowdattheotherendtojoinandchatleisurelywithhiscrowdofnomadfriendswhoweresittingorlyingonthesidewalks.Tinyalmostinvisibleflowerpollenaalswereliftedintotheairbythespringbreeze.Ah,theseweregoodtimes.WhenDimitriappearednooneknewfromwhencehecameandwhenhedisappearedinthecrowdatwillnooneknewwherehehadgoo.Hewaslikeahappyfairywhohadedowhtohaveagoodtime.

    Inthisseasonofpollinatingtreesandflowers,abuscarryingonlyafewpassengerswasmovingslowlyaelyoreetsofthecity.Thedriverwasinahappymoodasheleisurelytookchargeofthesteeringwheel,geniallycallingoutgreetingsandgoodbyestothepassengersastheygotonoroffhisbus.Onsuchabrightandcheeryspringday,itwashardtobeinabadmood.Butstraosay,thecrimeandmurderrateofthiscitywasveryhighandneverseemedtodrop.It’sreallyperplexingthatinspiteofsuchbeautifulweathertherewerepeoplewhowoulditcrimesandevenmurder.Justthenashrilloldvoicesoundedfromtheseatbehindhim.

    “Excusemesir,IogetoffatBroadwayand13thStreet.Couldyoucallmewheimees?”askedanolddwarfwithalongwhitebeard.Heworeesestylepantsandshirtandamelonshapedcap,buthadnopigtail.Helookedstrangeandoutndish.

    “Suresir,noproblem.Iwillcallyouwhehere;butforyourowy,pleasedon’tleaveyourseatuntilIstopthebus”repliedthedrivergood-naturedly.Heslowlyeasedthebustoastandstilttheopandamuscurman,obviouslydrunkgoton,stillholdingahalfemptybottleofliquor.

    “Ihavenomooday.I