Some nights when Neil has lost the scent again and stands alone and lonely, when fog is banished by sea breezes and the moon shines brilliant, bleaching the city white, Neil's hair rises, caressed by unseen electric fingers. Above the sounds of the city a mournful howl ascends, calling a forgotten past and an unknown future.
Neil pours his fear and frustration into mixing bowls, blending equal parts of hope, fear and longing into an ever-expanding array of confections. The neighborhood around Jo-Jo's has become famous for harmony and understanding. Principals buy treats for their entire schools. It is expensive, but well worth classrooms filled with sweet-tempered, empathetic children. Therapists have standing orders for Neil's cranberry muffins which seem to calm anxious patients. Spic
