Chapter Thirty-Seven
Memoirs
“Archie, like most first-generations Identities, was suspicious of anyone who chose to forget their heritage.”—Don
Patsy checked through the memoirs. Eunice, having worked her magic on the broken window, was packing up her tools.
“They are all here,” she said to Eunice. “Although it looks like someone has been rifling through them. They’re usually stacked like a deck of cards.” Patsy sighed. “Anyone would think Madonna had written them.”
Eunice picked up a book . . .
Legless
The Blue Period
A story of a rebel
In Lycra that not only gave but breathed.
“Who’s Legless?”
“Some client,” muttered Patsy, “trying to discover his voice.”
Eunice leafed through, curious. “What’s a stationary?”
Patsy snatched the book. “She’d have a cardiac if she saw you read
