A short novel, half a novel really, far from Yellowhawk and Passerman's Hollow and confined within the sick and sicker head of Kay Forrester, 32, wife of Jason, mother of Martin and Greta, victim of the ugly city in which she lives (New Orleans) with all its ecolitter, further victim of a fantasy fat man or the gross company executive for whom Jason works. Did she kill him? Whirling -- faster than the bubbles in a bottle of quinine water -- splitting out -- Kay wakes up in a hospital crawling with other creatures, roaches, and gradually picks up the psychedelic pieces of herself to make the return home with Jason and away from the city. . . . Now behind her is the Land of the Fox with its booby-trapdoor cave -- a little Snake pit. This is a rather perishable version thereof.