She flipped the frying eggs over and went into the living room. I heard a door open and close. She was back again with the paper. She handed it to me. I held it, wondering what would happen if I opened it and tried to read it. I could smell the coffee. I could smell the eggs and bacon, and hear them cooking. I held my breath and looked at a segment of the newspaper. The type was clear. I read, "upstate New York for this year." It was clear and legible, and I had had no difficulty reading it. And nothing had happened to me. The woman set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. The plate was large, with an intricate blue design on it. A moment later she brought a cup of coffee. "Better hurry," she said cheerfully. "I wish you would make an appointment this morning and go see that radio-therapist and let him put heat on your shoulder. It did you a world of good the last time." I grunted and ate swiftly, wanting to escape. She didn't resent my lack of response. She seemed to take it for granted. She sat there, sipping a cup of coffee. She hadn't fixed herself anything to eat. I finished eating and pushed my chair back. "Take the paper with you and read it on the bus," she said. I picked it up rather than risk an argument. "And be sure and see the radio-therapist," she added as a parting shot when I reached the hall door. In the hall, with the door safely closed, I started to take out the wallet. I hesitated. She was the type of woman who might come to the door with more instructions. So I went down the stairs to the ground floor, and out to the sidewalk. I had never seen this neighborhood before. I walked along the sidewalk and casually took out my wallet. Unfolding it, I saw an identification card. It was a familiar one. It was the one for Rexlo Research Corporation. It classified me as a scientist. My name was David Thordsen! * * * * * It made sense. I wasn't going to bother about what kind of sense yet. But I felt a great weight lift. For one thing, I didn't have to wonder about where I was going to go for the day. For another, I was suddenly and irrationally sure that I wasn't insane. Why? Probably it was more like having a box of pieces from what seems to be a jigsaw puzzle. None of the pieces fit together. You begin to wonder if it is a puzzle, or just nonsense pieces. Then you find two that fit together. The edge of one fits into the edge of the other. I was Fred Martin. That certainty persisted. Right now it was my only certainty. But I had been Orville Snyder who worked in the lab at Rexlo Research, although I had never heard of him before. That was one of the pieces. It fitted, somehow, against the obvious fact that I was now David Thordsen who worked there. And yet I wasn't David Thordsen. The woman who must be his wife was a stranger to me, just as the woman who must be Orville Snyder's wife was a stranger.