n the weedy little putting green。 Beyond that is a small stand of woods； with a narrow path winding through it and a couple of sheds； no longer used and mouldering away quietly； along the way。 I walked down this path slowly； listening to the sleek and secret patter of the rain in the pines； chewing away at a piece of toast with my few remaining teeth。 My legs ached； but it was a low ache； manageable。 Mostly I felt pretty well。 I drew the moist gray air as deep as I could； taking it in like food。
And when I got to the second of those old sheds； I went in for awhile； and I took care of my business there。
When I walked back up the path twenty minutes later； I could feel a worm of hunger stirring in my belly； and thoug