I'm off, too. I doubt I'll run into the Scribendis. They have seedier places to see. It's not seedy in Timberlea. Salty.
It's always me going on, isn't it, and not a word do I allow edgewise from you. Maybe you'll be somewhere nice this week and how are we all to know in this great big office? I'll ask Mr. Scribendi about a guestbook when he gets back. If his eyes aren't haunted. If he hears any but the inner voice.
(July 2002)