Preface.1

Inside, it is a maze of streets, a city with no governance, a state without a state bird, a country with no real borders. Inside him. Inside her. Coarsing through veins, capilaries and arteries, a blue and white Peugot drives erratically, skidding around turns, lurching to stop only at traffic lights. But impatiently, revving the engine with a heavy foot not in one continuous push but with aggressive stabs and murmuring pauses like the groans from a resistantly dying man. It is pouring rain, the kind that falls in expansive sheets horizontally. The windshield wipers cut back and forth, revealing eyes of black with yellow slits. Or is it just the way the light from street lamps plays across this darkened face through the drops of water on the windshield? PARAGRAPH END