n　the　weedy　little　putting　green。　Beyond　that　is　a　small　stand　of　woods；　with　a　narrow　path　winding　through　it　and　a　couple　of　sheds；　no　longer　used　and　mouldering　away　quietly；　along　the　way。　I　walked　down　this　path　slowly；　listening　to　the　sleek　and　secret　patter　of　the　rain　in　the　pines；　chewing　away　at　a　piece　of　toast　with　my　few　remaining　teeth。　My　legs　ached；　but　it　was　a　low　ache；　manageable。　Mostly　I　felt　pretty　well。　I　drew　the　moist　gray　air　as　deep　as　I　could；　taking　it　in　like　food。

And　when　I　got　to　the　second　of　those　old　sheds；　I　went　in　for　awhile；　and　I　took　care　of　my　business　there。

When　I　walked　back　up　the　path　twenty　minutes　later；　I　could　feel　a　worm　of　hunger　stirring　in　my　belly；　and　thoug