A whistle of bystanders emanated the essence of sunbursts across the tethered heather of the moors of lesser Moorstead heath. More or less.

Candi said. Then Candi said Candida would always find her way into the worst of all possible worlds–even if there were only one possible world. The Mayor of Cannes said but then it would be both the best and the worst. Candi said. Then Candi said then Candida would find her way into the worst of all possible worlds even if there were a million or a billion worlds–take your pick. The Mayor of Cannes said Candida would gloss over everything regardless of the state of the world she found herself in–whether one of one world or one of any superlative of illions of worlds. Candi said. Then Candi said Ilium. Then Candi said who was the hero of the Aeneid, who flourished in Ilium after the fall of Troy Smith’s last stand? The Mayor of Cannes said according to my brother from Casterbridge, second ex-husband of faire Candida, it depends on how you look at it.

Candi said. Then Candi said you mean Rashomon. Candida said no I mean Roshalicious! And that was the best of all possible endings–until this one came along.