Heliftedhisblackcoffeeandtookalongswallow.Thebitternesssearedhisthroat.

        Thefatesofpeopleatthebottom—sotwisted,sosuffocating.Forthem,tobeclothedandfedwasalreadyaluxury.

        Hisgazefellbacktothephotograph.

        Andthenhispupilscontractedsharply.

        Thewomaninthepictureworeasimple,fadedfloraldress.Thefabriccheap,thepatterndated.Theskirtcaughtmid-creaseinthefrozenmomentofthecamera''sshutter.

        ButJunhadseenthatdressbefore.

        Onthedaybeforethefireatthemanager''shouse,hehadrunintoReyaatabeefnoodlehouse.Shehadbeenwearingitthen—sooutofstepwithherusualstylethatithadstruckhimasoddlyjarring.

        Now,thatsamedressstoodbeforehimagain,framedinLinisan''sphoto.

        Thebitternessofthecoffeestillclungtohistongue,butachillhadalreadycreptuphisspine.

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