The young sorcerer gathered a pile of books and papers off the table and put them on a nearby chair. Then, realizing that he had now filled the only available chair in the house, he picked them back up and looked around helplessly before adding them to an already tilting stack of boxes on the floor. Jennifer sat on the edge of her seat to keep from leaning on the unfolded laundry draped over the back. He removed a potted geranium from the top of a little three-legged stool and, still holding the plant, pulled the stool closer to Jennifer. "Now, Jennifer," he said, "tell me again." She had already explained everything once, while he had been preparing the tea. Now she began again. "With the mirror," he interrupted. "You're leaving something out there." "What?" He gave her a disappointed look. "If I knew that, would I need you to tell me?" He kept changing all the while they were talking—short to tall to old to young. At the moment he was about her father's age and had given himself less kinky hair.
