here was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Norm called. The door opened, and a small, neat girl entered. Her long bob was dark and silky, but windblown. She tossed her head and her hair settled into place, as if she had just brushed it. She extended a pack of punched cards.
"Thank you," Norm said, gravely.
The girl looked up at him suddenly, and he stepped back a little. She had surprising, deep-violet eyes, and their glance seemed to have a tangible impact. She nodded grave acknowledgment and left.
"Damn it, I wish I could do that!" Norm complained.
"Make goo-goo eyes?"
"No. Shake my head so my hair would automatically be combed like hers. I've been fighting this cowlick ever since I've been a kid—stocking caps, gunk, the works. Still got it. And the part moves around and I have to hunt for it."
"Know who she is?"
"Nope. Clerk, messenger, I guess. They're always hiring new ones."
"Doesn't she ever speak?"