Cyril had been working on his memoir. By Chapter Five he was up to his life as a third grader at the Montetorkie school in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. He was stuck. He couldn’t recall if that girl who stole a kiss was a Finch or a Grosbeak. Now he couldn’t even remember her name. He wanted his life story to be accurate and perhaps a bit gut wrenching. the Face of Everyman who had read the 1st draft assured him that nobody would notice. “Perhaps the name Mary would sound authentic enough.”