The sky was overcast, a weak sun struggled to penetrate the clouds, and an icy wind was getting in practice for winter by whipping around exposed ankles and knees. The streets were crowded with shoppers and the buzz of conversations mixed with the roar of traffic, the yells of the market vendors, and the mellow tones of the town’s brass band as it gave a free concert near the war memorial. Belladonna and Steve were quiet when they emerged. Suddenly it was this world that seemed unreal. Steve hesitated at the corner. His parents’ shop was contributing to the general cacophony with several television sets running at full volume, and they could hear his mother shouting at a customer. “Well,” said Belladonna, “I suppose I should go home and see if my aunt’s come back.” Steve nodded. “Right,” he said. “See you at school on Monday, then. I suppose we can check out the library at lunchtime.” “Bye,” said Belladonna as she turned to make her way through the crowds.
