Upon The Dull Earth

Upon The Dull Earth by Philip K. Dick - "Who is Silvia? What is she?" Oh, no! What is Silvia... and who isn't she?

Silvia ran laughing through the night brightness, between the roses and cosmos and Shasta daisies, down the gravel paths and beyond the heaps of sweet–tasting grass swept from the lawns. Stars, caught in pools of water, glittered everywhere, as she brushed through them to the slope beyond the brick wall. Cedars supported the sky and ignored the slim shape squeezing past, her brown hair flying, her eyes flashing.

"Wait for me," Rick complained, as he cautiously threaded his way after her, along the half–familiar path. Silvia danced on without stopping. "Slow down!" he shouted angrily.

"Can't - we're late." Without warning, Silvia appeared in front of him, blocking the path. "Empty your pockets," she gasped, her gray eyes sparkling. "Throw away all metal. You know they can't stand metal."

Rick searched his pockets. In his overcoat were two dimes and a fifty–cent piece. "Do these count?"