He’dcannibalized boot skids and tray shelves from the transport sheds and every last one of those lash-upspiders the lading crews use to tighten down cargo. And somehow he kept coming. Body still rigid, the cat swiveled its gaze to me, the one good eye fixing me mercilessly. That bitch Quilla June! I shoulda suspected! The thing was low, and green, and boxlik
You know you’ re not the son of a bitch. “Excuse me, ma’ am,” I said to the fat one, “might I trouble you for a glass ofwater, please. They are always for the living; to pay off debts; to say goodbyeformally one last time. he clash of twenty token silver dollars hitting the payoff trough, and that goddamned gong wentout of its mind again.
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