I'm eating everybody's dust, here. Just broke 4,000-some words. (booo) Not real pleased with the way events are shaping up. It all seems too soft, even with a slinky bald woman with chromatophores under her skin. I sympathize with you, Barbara. Mundane reality is so mundane... Anyway, here's a new bit: Stewart and Tim are on Stewart's fire escape drinking pitchers of beer.
Tim ran his fingers along the side of his glass, looked off toward a big thunderhead hanging out over the lake. He said, "How does your bank account look?"
"I've got a few bucks put away."
No one said anything for a moment.
Tim fixed Stewart in his gaze. "You didn't ask why."
"Oh, I know why," Stewart said. "I just didn't ask." He took a drink.
Tim slouched in his chair, cleared his throat. "Okay," he said. "Forget I said anything."
So there you go. Keep on keeping on!
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