and the wide avenues of that city had suddenly transformed into a dark and lonesome path. It was dirt that now covered the ground and the two painted fences which he moved between seemed now to bend and warp, closer and closer, the path becoming narrow and twisted, the branches and vines hanging low, their leaves intermingled with tops of green bushes and the buzzing sound of broken electricity or bugs. But perhaps he had been walking for some time and had taken a wrong turn. Indeed there was no movie theatre in sight. He took from his pocket the two paper tickets and tried to examine them within the small patch of light cast from a hole in one of the fences. He moved the tickets into the light, squinting his eyes, but before he could see how late he might be, a hand reached through the hole and brushed gently upon his shoulder. Take your shoes off, the voice whispered from behind the fence. He turned around but immediately the hand drew back. As he bent down to peek through the hole he saw only the ordinary backyard of a two story house, early evening with the damp grass spread before a wooden deck and the sliding glass door into which would surely be a newly remodeled kitchen. Are you standing there? he asked, Just behind this fence? Yes! said the voice. Take your shoes off and you can come to dinner. Moving his head just so, He could barely see some blurred fabric of the sleeve on whoever he was talking to. I’ve already eaten, he said. Do you have any dessert? A moment passed between them and he had to put his hand up to the fence so he could keep bending down this way without completely sitting down in a bush. I might be able to pass you a small slice of pie, said the voice. But you would have to wait until dinner is over… We don’t usually bake the pie until the end of dinner… In the middle of the backyard rose an Oak of considerable age and, amidst a breeze, shadows of branches moved slowly about the grass, a light having been turned on upstairs in the bathroom where someone could thoroughly wash their hands. I’m already late, he said. I’m on my way to see a movie… I’m meeting somebody there and I have the tickets. As he said this he put the tickets back into his jacket pocket, leaving his hand there, his fingers pressing hard over the paper. Who are you meeting? said the voice, the sleeve shifted a little against the fence. I don’t know, he said. Just an old friend who I haven’t seen in a long time. You wouldn’t know them. Another silence. Well OK, the voice said after a while. Come back later if you want and I’ll save you some pie. OK, he said. Thanks. He stood up and backed away from the fence. He listened as the voice moved back towards the house, stepping up onto the deck and the sliding door leading into the kitchen. The breeze picked up, the warm air sweeping around him in a delicious rush. He continued along the path until it let out along a very familiar street. The movie theatre was just around the corner. Lightly, it began to rain.