I think he rooted for the Yankees. I'm going to move most of the furniture out of the second bedroom and use the room for Algernon.
I plan to build him a three-dimensional maze out of scrap plastic that I can pick up cheaply downtown.
There are some complex maze variations I'd like him to learn to be sure he keeps in shape.
But I'm going to see if I can find some motivation other than food.
There must be other rewards that will induce him to solve problems.
Solitude gives me a chance to read and think, and now that the memories are coming through again—to rediscover my past, to find out who and what I really am.
If anything should go wrong, I'll have at least that.
June 19 — Met Fay Lillman, my neighbor across the hall.
When I came back with an armful of groceries, I discovered I had locked myself out,
and I remembered that the front fire escape connected my living room window and the apartment directly across the hall.
The radio was on loud and brassy, so I knocked—softly at first, and then louder. "Come on in! Door's open!"
I pushed the door, and froze, because standing in front of an easel, painting, was a slender blonde in pink bra and panties.
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