Fig.90) Foster and Herd She leaves the back door unlocked and slips out through the alleyway. Smoking, Katt wanders the waggle of the lake where the sand and the water seal their deal. The beaches are so terrible with broken glass and porcelain, it's hard imagining anyone being here when the lights are on. A generation of scribbled plumbing has washed up on the shores of Diamond City as babies have learned to dance toilets were being broken and discarded. Trucks are filled with these and all the other things that can fit inside of a wrapper. Once the vacationing bodies go away, taking with them their oil and cigarettes, that's when the trucks are dumped. When the hours are dim and skinny, Katt's mostly indifferent to clocks, comme ci comme ca right? She listens to all of it while she smokes. "I miss being a painter," Milton says. He's writing a book about North Florida. "When she left, Mom might have had the better knees but I couldn't keep on wakin...