FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours. He was always deceived by these rustlings which promised wind and seldom fulfilled that promise. ‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens. ’ Tears glistened in her eyes. These galleries were separated in the middle by iron grates. Under the somewhat trying incandescent light her cheeks pleaded guilty to a recent use of the powder puff. Brutes! They are the brute still with us! Science some day may teach us a way to do without them.
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