Summary

Hayden Howard,  The Un-Reconstructed Woman

“ When that last manmade sun was lost in the sky and the loud sound was the blowing of the leaves, Paul limped back up the hill, whistling. But she did not come. And he did not find her or her tracks.
The leaves fluttered with amazement, flew up in familiar patterns that frightfully burst. The hill surged red as the sun found the horizon. Down through the alien treetops, across the leaf-shrouded peaches, its bent rays javelinned the mouse on the trunk of the tree. Chittering, it vanished.
Paul cried out and ran. Down the hill toward the shed, the leaves were rattling together.
”
Source: Gutenberg

Hayden Howard,  The Un-Reconstructed Woman

“ When his face nuzzled the leaves, bean rows sprang higher than a man, leghorns were scratching everywhere and the spacemen came with bright sheaves of credits in their fists. The bean rows spread beyond the horizon and the dust of plowing tractors rose like smoke against the sky, while Paul and Harry, hardly distinguishable, for Paul was only three minutes older, proudly led a ragged old man and a slack-jawed captain through the flowering avenue of peach trees. ”
Source: Gutenberg

Hayden Howard,  The Un-Reconstructed Woman

“ A chip of damp leaves, dark side up with alien things dragging their larvae from the sun, down the slope another, he pursued scars in the leaves over the hill, down, lost the trail in the dry watercourse, zig-zagging, circling like a hound dog, found it again. Ran. His leg muscles were soft from months without gravity. Steep hills. Rollercoasters. Winded.
Resting, listening to his heart, listening, smiling: the mouse was not the largest fauna in his private world. Doubtless the thing that ran like a man was hills and valleys ahead, a world to hide in.
”
Source: Gutenberg

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