Before leaving Middletown yesterday, Karoz briefly stares at the red, blue and yellow newspaper boxes on the very western edge of the city, picking up an eerie resonance.
The next day, Peter Ladd stares at the same boxes with more knowledge.
He then goes over and squarely stands on one of Main Street’s yellow rubber lines, contemplating Treasure Hill just across the bay.
He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the ring, and puts it on.
Turning back toward the Middletown skyline, he vows never to remove himself again.
He is Peter from now on.
