FIRST SUMMER S TALE<br >A Bait of Dreams<br >A<br >s Gleia hurried along the<br >uneven planks of the walk-<br >way， pattering around the<br >bodies of sleeping drunks， slipping past workmen<br >and market women， Horli s red rim bathed the<br >street in blood-red light， painting a film of charm<br >over the focades of the sagging buildings.<br > She glanced up repeatedly， fearing to see the<br >blue light of the second sun Hesh creeping into the<br >sky. Late. Her breath came raggedly as she tried to<br >move faster. She knocked against people in the<br >crowded street， dra ~ing curses a~ter her.<br > Late. Nothing had gone right this morning. When<br >Horli s light had crept through the holes in her<br >torn shade and touched her face， one look at the<br >clock sent her into a panic， kicking the covers<br >frantically aside， tearing her nightgown over her<br >head. No time to eat. No time to discipline her<br >wild hair. She dragged a comb through the worst<br ><br >
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