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The spotlights turned off: the overheads came on. Black and white
sifted out of the building. Lungs, lips. hands, hair, people -- met and
embraced the warmth and softness of the night air.

The white boy returned to his dorm, hoping to see someone, but
not really expecting to. He would try Carrel'ls room just for the heck
of it. He knew that Carrell was out with Sylvia ... the big night of the
year ... two dances and a party, then out to Stone Mountain. Carrell had
been saving his money 1'01' three weeks: he didn't have a cal', and his

girl lived on the other side of town. Hertz 01' Avis would have to pro-
vide the transportation tonight.

He opened the door and saw the strong. slender Ne gro sitting on
the edge of his bed. His black face made a brilliant contrast with the
white of the spotless tuxedo.

"Hey Carrell. I thought you were going out tonight. What hap-
penned?"

.; I went all over Atlanta today. trying to rent a car. Each time I
Was 'five minutes late.' Then Joe said that he'd loan me. his car, but
at seven o'clock he remembered that he had promised it to someone
else. I just called Sylvia and told her that tonight is off."

"Carrell. I'm sorry. God damn. am I sorry."
The white boy slipped out of the room,. walked into the night air,
and thought. And his mind wept. If they're not handing it out in buc-
kets. they're handing it out in glasses, and it all tastes the same.

Walter Michael

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