Three months later, in the middle of the soggiest, most gelatinous of Julys, Rebecca found herself at the Illinois Mortuary Science and Business convention in Urbana, in east-central Illinois, on the campus of Parkland Community College, working the room. She was a good enough sport about campaigning, but it was these people she dreaded. Not because they touched and moved and dressed and applied eyeliner to the deceased, but because they wanted something from her and many of them didn't even know exactly what. They knew they were supposed to want something, and that they were in a position, ostensibly, to get it. But they didn't have the requisite information; for many this was their first time in the presence of a candidate for Senate, and they didn't know what to ask for and how much they'd have to pay for it.
The rest of this story is no longer online, but does appear in the book "The Unforbidden Is Compulsory, or Optimism."
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