It’s time to work.
* * * *
I wrap things up at Putnam’s house. No reason to overstay my welcome. Two short stories by the author are enough for me. A minimal fix or high until I return. Before leaving, I make sure everything is exactly the way I find it. Paperclips in their proper places. Journal open to the correct page. Waterman pen to the left of the journal. Satisfied with my work, I exit his Colonial and head home to let Mr. Gray out for a pee. Trespassing complete. Once again.
* * * *
The end of April. Almost May. I take Mr. Gray for another walk…walk…walk. Damn, the dog loves to walk. I guess if I were in his paws, I’d love to walk too. The evening is a pop in the face beauty with swirls of reds and blues that mix into soothing and melancholic purples, city life here and there;
