My count is thirty-one, mind. Jake handed it over. CHAPTER THREEPlaying Castles1There followed a week of the sort of weather that makes folk apt to crawl back into bed after lunch, take long naps, and wake feeling stupid and disoriented. If she had looked down, she couldn’t have missed seeing him and undoubtedly would have turned him into a bird or a bumbler or maybe even a mosquito.
“Do you need to do the necessary?” Reynolds asked. As he passed through, he saw a line of white porcelain cylinders marching down the post closest to him. The aroma was faint, mostly boiled off over the hot days of the summer just passed, but what was left made him feel like upchucking. It wouldn’t surprise her a bit to spy the cat lurking near, hoping to trip her up.
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