You stand under the clock on the main floor of the Crescent Department Store waiting for a woman you no longer love, who is shopping for a new dress to wear to a Christmas party you do not want to attend. You check your watch and glance again at the escalator. What you see stops time. It is a girl of a woman. Blonde and slight. Dressed in sharp lines of gray. A cool, Nordic beauty, so unlike the island face that greets you in the mirror each morning. She looks at you, smiles a shy smile. You feel dizzy, you cannot breathe. Your vision dims and then lights up in neon.