Epilogue I
The Limitations of Flesh
Summer, A.D. 2059 (One year later)
A lithe black woman who was dressed in a knee-length corduroy shirt that had bursts of white wool around its collar and sleeves took Miss Karlsson’s hand and kissed her on the mouth. Snapdragon stood at a nearby drinking spigot, taller and thinner than he had been a year ago, watching the two beautiful giants.
The stranger pulled away from the instructor, glanced at the gawking twelve-year-old and said with her purple-painted lips, “Hello there.”
“Um…h-hello.”
“You must be Snapdragon. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I didn’t do it!” defended the Asian boy, who then ran down the hall, past myriad cubbies, through a living wall and across tuffgrass, toward the yellow foam-rubber car within which sat his father, eatin
