It was nearly Thanksgiving before anything intruded into the quiet life I wanted and was hoping I would get. I"d spent the time working, and when I was at home, I was trying to fast-track a lifetime full of knowledge about all of the things I never knew were real, like witches and ghosts and transgender incubi.
There were no new sightings of Brotherhood men seeking my life, and for that matter, no new sightings of my father"s ghost either. I was grateful for both. Work was progressing, my line was already showing improved quality and I found myself actually enjoying the company of my fellow BART riders in the mornings, much to my surprise.
Like most other holidays, Thanksgiving had never been a special day for me. Mostly it reinforced the idea that I wasn"t a part of the family I lived w
