how I got here, or even where I am. All my art is back in my studio."
      "May I see it?"
      "If you can show me how to get back, you can have some of it," said Dali.
      She stared at him as if considering her next statement. Finally she spoke.
      "If I show you how to get back, indeed how to come and go whenever you want, will you give me lessons?"
      "It's a bargain!" said Dali eagerly. He was about to extend his hand to shake on it, but at the last moment he thought better of it. "This is a very unusual place you live in," he continued after a moment. "Everything is so strange here."
      "Not as strange as my paintings," said Jinx.
      "Birds walk, snakes fly, rivers flow upstream, chipmunks and trees talk . . . what could be stranger than that?"
      "There's nothing strange about that," replied Jinx. "It's the natural course of things. If you want strange, you should see my art. It upsets everyone who sees it."
      "That's not a terrible thing," said Dali.
      "It isn't?"
      "At least they remember it. If it's unique, if no one else paints like it, then it will always be identified with you."
      "Is that a good thing?" asked Jinx.
      "Do you want to just be another painter, interchangeable with all your peers?" said Dali. "Or do you want your work to stand out, to be like no one else's?"
      "It already stands out, and nobody except me understands it," said Jinx.
      Dali smiled. "I feel an affinity with you, Jinx. I don't know where I am or how I got here, but I'm glad we met, and I hope the next time I fall asleep or get drunk I meet you again."
      "You won't, you know," said Jinx.
      "Oh?"
      She shook her head. "When you sleep, you dream. I am not a dream. You can visit me whenever you want, and I hope you will let me visit you, but only when you're awake."
      "You're sure I'm awake?"
      "Yes."
      "It is the middle of the night, though," he continued, looking at his wristwatch. Suddenly he noticed Jinx staring at his watch in rapt fascination. "What is it?" he asked.
      "I've never seen anything like it before," she said.
      "You've never seen a watch?"
      "I've seen lots of watches. But never one like that."
      "I don't understand," said Dali.
      "It doesn't change."
      He held it out for her. "The hands move."
      "But the watch doesn't change. It's fixed and rigid. It was flat and circular a minute ago, and I suspect it will be flat and circular an hour from now."
      "Of course it will."
      "That's what's so strange. The world changes with each passing second. I have never heard of a watch that didn't change too, to show the passage of time."
      "You are a very interesting young lady," said Dali. He smiled. "And a very pretty one, with just the right number of eyes and noses."
      "Thank you," she said. "If you like, I will pose for you." She paused. "But I won't take my clothes off."
      "I haven't asked you to."
      "But you would have. All artists like to see what's beneath the clothing. I would disappoint you: just arms and legs. No snakes, no insects, no white bones."
      "Good God!" exclaimed Dali. "What do the people of this world look like?"
      "It's your world too, you know," said Jinx. "And they look just