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Friend Jacqui, a first-year medical student, and I were talking one evening when she glanced at her watch and said, "Oops! I have to go -- I've got a date with this dead guy." "Don't tell me," I replied. "You met in anatomy class, right?" "Yeah. It was interesting at first, but he's such a drag. He's always falling apart, and I can't get him to pull himself together. He won't talk. And," she added, wrinkling her nose, "he smells." "Ah." I nodded wisely. "The strong, silent type." -- * Liz Broadwell (anonymous@hmivax.humgen.upenn.edu) * * * Department of English * The University of Pennsylvania * *
(From the "Rest" of RHF)
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