I am so, so very glad to read that the Boston treasure from Byron Preiss' The Secret (1982) has finally been found and I am curiously unsurprised that it was under the site of the molasses flood. The involvement of construction work was an especially apposite touch. A peridot is a nice city gem.
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- 1: I'm not related to anyone
- 2: You are a case of the vapours
- 3: And we're on the right side of the ground where they bury the bones
- 4: Now I feel like Kafka with a bad migraine
- 5: For when the heart's a sinking stone
- 6: Fierce as the Baltic sea
- 7: All the trees carve shards of light
- 8: Reflections coming through the radio, the telephone, the TV
- 9: I want what's true
- 10: I've been with him for seven years and now I'll lose my situation
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