8
Dinosaurs Play a Small Part
I’d set my watch and my phone to wake me at eight. I was out of the house and walking toward the bus stop by eight-thirty. The eight-forty-five bus into the centre of Purple Bay would give me plenty of time to get there by ten.
The museum was a block or so from City Hall. It was one of the most beautiful buildings in Purple Bay—in fact, it had always been my favourite. It was made of sandstone, and the edifice was carved into breaking waves and mountain ranges and rivers and forests. There were fish instead of gargoyles (although the gnawfish could pass for either). Brightly coloured banners hanging out front advertised the current travelling exhibits and gave the place a festive feeling at odds with the cool, staid, green-marble darkness within.
I was ear
