CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
I’m standing under a shower that sprays tomato juice instead of water, soaking the pink tutu I’m wearing. A purple llama stands just outside the stream, chewing the shower curtain.
“Can you pass me the body wash?” the llama says in a Scottish accent, after the curtain is kaput.
I obligingly reach for the bottle, only to notice something missing from my wrist.
Pom isn’t where he should be.
Of course. I’m dreaming. For the millionth time, I wonder why such absurdities as the tutu and the llama don’t clue me in.
Recalling what happened right before I fell asleep, I change my outfit and head for my dream palace.
I’m lucky Chester fell where he did. Was that his luck or mine? It’s possible that his probability power guided my fall so as to save him from Hekima’s trap.
