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I’m not used to adventures. I’m sure my grandchildren have them all the time, but not me. So what happened a little while ago was all very new and exiting in some ways, a bit confusing in others. But I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Anise Altfrau; I turned eighty-six last month, and live in Mother Agnes’ Home for the Elderly. It’s a nice little place just down the road from a funeral chapel, and my wonderful grandchildren come to visit me every so often so I don’t have much to complain of. The only thing I might find fault with is the persistence of all our caretakers to try and keep us inside. They take our shoes away whenever we’re not allowed to be out. So one day I found all this confinement a tad tiresome, and when I saw that someone had left the back door open I decided to take a walk. I found my old coat just where I had put it ten years ago when I first came there and put it and some slippers on (as they had hidden my shoes). The caretakers were busy helping a poor veteran who had just made a mess all over the floor, and didn’t see me, so I snuck out onto the sidewalk.