-18-
Thursday
The call came around eleven-thirty and caught
her in the midst of cleaning her refrigerator. It was a task she
despised, ranking right next to scouring the oven on her list of
least favorite chores, but every few months she forced herself to
dispose of the collection of inedible leftovers that reproduced in
the back while the door was closed. The assortment of mold and
fungus accumulating there might delight a biologist, but Cathy had
to hold her nose and try not to look while she scraped them into
the disposal unit. She'd just dumped a particularly nasty mess
growing on a bit of meat loaf she couldn't remember making and was
relieved to get away from the job for a while.
"Cathy?" It was Peter. "I think this may be
something solid. Can you come to my office at t
