Walking south on Valencia Street toward home, in a slow steady drizzle. I wear a thin hooded robe, so I look like Death in a medieval woodcut. Or an elf from Tolkien. But as it slowly gets soggy, I sag into a gaunt shivering mortal.

Though maybe we ARE elves, or werehorses: I, and most of those I see, have long mobile pointed equine ears.

And the robe-hoods are adapted for creatures like us. All have earholes. Better cold wet ears than squashed, restricted ones--clothes designers all know we find THAT unbearable.

I head into a thrift shop and seek a similar hooded robe. Find one, buy it, put it over the other, and the extra layer rewarms me--for a while. But as I slog down Valencia in the rain, it too eventually soaks.

Into a second shop, buy a third robe--cheap, thin. Spot a warmer one, but it's wool and I'm allergic. Make do with the thin one. Walk on, warm a while, but after a mile I'm shivering. Go into a Salvation Army store...

Here I run into my friend Danielle. It's been like five years. She's as cute as ever. Says "I came here for a robe too, but also... I sensed a friend in emotional crisis." And there she is. A tall slender brunette with an intelligent but sad aura. Wait, I know her too... isn't she my old crush Cary? Young and beautiful, hasn't aged in all these years. Funny, now that I think of it, I haven't either. Guess we really are elves or magic ponies or... something. With big pointed ears.

Danielle and I try to comfort Cary. Hold her. She cries. I feel both turned on--they're both so sexy--and affectionate--I always liked them both, though we were very different. Oh, and a simpler attraction: pooling our warmth, easing my shivers.

I think I have unresolved business with Cary (if it's her)--we broke up over a misunderstanding my family caused. Toward Danielle I feel sheer admiration for the strength of her compassion-radar. I'm intuitive, but I didn't sense Cary through the store walls! Impressive.

But looking at myself, I see just vulnerability, not strength--thin, shivering, needing one more insulating layer to get me home. Just not much to give when you're drained! "The spirit is willing but the flesh is cold."

NOTES IN THE MORNING

ACTION: Quit running! I've been assuming I'm fatally flawed. Wrong. Just need a rare type--highly intuitive.