” He replied. “I have been training myself to look askance at beautiful things. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. I used to go by the name Lucy Iovelli, which was my natural father’s surname. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. Lucy, would you like to be my date for the silly little dance they call the Junior Prom?\" There was a pregnant pause as she digested the information.
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