Again, he was surprised at the strength in his limbs. Looking down at his body, he noticed for the first time that he was wearing somebody else's clothes, but he felt each of his magical foci present, except for the knife. Despite his apparent strength and health, he moved carefully to the window and parted the dulled and dirty blinds. It was sunset, nearly twilight, and the street was empty but for the blackened and charred wreck of a Honda minicar turned on its side against the far curb. That and dozens of bright red sheets of paper that caught the wind and swirled.