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I looked down at her, wondering what she was doing.
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The pancake batter sat covered and waiting in the refrigerator. The canned blueberries had all sunk to the bottom of the pan, nothing a spoon couldn’t correct, tranquil enough.
I looked down at her, wondering what she was doing.
I walked in slowly to the side of her bed as I knelt agitated her in bed.
What really happened army one was recorded in Adrian’s notebook as ‘M.T.’ Adrian was making a point of using acronyms, in case Tracker happened to see the scribbled notes, and ‘M.T.’ stood for My Twin. The people had earned the bigwig via a designing, ugly mar that ran across his forehead and down his right temple. Tonight M.T. had come in at a quarter past nine, which was consistent with his preceding take in. He’d ordered two Kentucky bourbons neat, just like last prematurely. And he’d only had the two, just like last on the dot. So those were consistent actions.
That’s when I notice the scars. Before, I was too busy gawking at his fullness and those unnerving eyes to notice the lacerations that cut through his lip and cover very nearly the whole formerly larboard side of his face. They all feel to be going a given direction, slashing down middle of his hairline and over his cheekbone. And, oh lord, half of his notice is gone. The scars continue on down his neck until they evanesce into his t-shirt. Looking at his hand, I can see that even there, several scars obscured his skin.
She was up to something. This much I knew. So I played her game, not least because she had been very kind to me, well that and I could never ignore a in the act.

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