Monday, July 21, 2008


Another installment of my Great American Lesbian Novel (in progress), Ginny Bates. If you are new to reading GB, go to the section in the right-hand column labeled Ginny Bates to read background and find out how to catch up.

Almost all of this section was scribbled long-hand at various locales while I was at Netroots Nation this weekend. Deep thanks to Liza for always being two steps ahead of me.

Late September 2012

The following day, Edwina and Allie arrived with barbecue chicken and bean salad shortly before lunch. Ginny had made a pitcher of iced mint tea but otherwise no effort had been extended toward a meal: Ginny was on one computer researching seeds for her winter garden and Myra was on the other making daringly low bids on plane flights for research jaunts. They joined their friends in the kitchen to make quick steamed potatoes and heat up some of Ginny's canned corn. As they all sat down, Allie said to Myra "You and I heading for Philly on Wednesday, right?"

"Yep. Thursday and Friday in the archives, Saturday and part of Sunday talking with wimmins. Back home late Sunday night" confirmed Myra.

"Well, I wanted to let you know, I'm taking the train to Portland in the morning for a day. I'm going to see Margie and Frances. Talk with 'em about what-all" said Allie.

"You mean the Imani situation" said Ginny unnecessarily. After a few moments, Allie said "It bothering me."

"Me, too" said Myra, tenting her fingers together over her plate. "They know you're coming?"

"Yeah, but I left the reason why open" said Allie.

"And they didn't ask?" queried Ginny. When Allie shook her head, Ginny grinned. Margie wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

Myra reached out her hands and took one of Allie's between hers, ironing her pink palm flat and tracking the brown creases in it tenderly. She said softly "I love you so very much."

"You better" said Allie gruffly.

Ginny said to Edwina "While they're gone next weekend, you want to go out dancing?" Edwina grinned at her and mock whispered "Not where they can hear us." She continued "There's a Haida canoe carving demonstration at the Center for Wooden Boats that Chris mentioned to me, I'd really like to go and tape it for a paper I'm writing about craftworker vernacular."

"Count me in" said Ginny. She said to Allie, "Are you going to be Myra's photographer on this trip?"

"What do you mean, take photos of her in the library?" said Allie, startled.

"No, making prints of endless offset-press journal pages about why collectivism is the only route to revolution and bad poetry about why my lover's vulva reminds me of nature" said Ginny.

Myra said "Oh, I don't feel all right about asking Allie to do that for me, it's too tedious."

Ginny stared at her, and Edwina asked Ginny to elaborate. When Ginny did, tersely, Edwina said "I agree it's too tedious for Allie, but it's also too tedious for Ginny. Why on earth waste your time that way?"

"It's not a waste of time" began Ginny, "It's essential to her book."

"Yes, but you can hire a grad student or one of the library assistants to do it. They'll have that offered as a service, most archives, and if they don't, the local university can find someone to do it for you" said Edwina.

"It has to be done perfectly" argued Myra.

"There are grad students who aren't slackers" challenged Edwina. "I know of several here who would jump at the opportunity; in fact, I was going to recommend a couple to you for leg work around the collating of all the material you're piling up. You have the money, it's insane for you to do anything that doesn't absolutely require your judgment and expert knowledge guiding it. What is it with you and delegating, Myra?"

Allie looked as guilty and defensive as Myra did. "I like a lot of what you call leg work" Myra said.

"Fine, keep whatever makes you happy. But for you to complete this project, you have to call in competent help. And why on earth" said Edwina, turning back to Ginny "were you going along with this 'I can't pay someone else a decent wage to do some of my work' crap, I thought you knew better?"

Ginny was listening attentively now. She said "I wanted to be with her, sharing in the project, hands on."

"There's plenty of ways to do that which call on your unique abilities" said Edwina. "You could be making sketches of the era as it was then for chapter headings, or portraits of key figures. If you illustrate this book, it's value will double. Or you could just sit beside her and have her talk out loud, you're quite knowledgeable yourself about the content she's researching."

Now Allie and Myra were following Edwina's argument. Myra and Ginny's eyes met, and Myra said quietly "You were feeling insecure, is that it?"

"Looks like" said Ginny.

"Well, I like Edwina's suggestions. So let's find Ginnyesque things for you to do" said Myra.

"What you insecure about?" asked Allie. Ginny's cheeks went red, and as she opened her mouth, Myra said "Oh, please, no, I really don't want to share it even with them."

"I wasn't about to tell" said Ginny. Looking at Allie, she said "It's between me and her. And we addressed it."

Allie was a little flushed, too. "Okay, never mind."

"Personally, I think the idea of you staying in the hotel and painting a canvas worth 50 grand is the only rational choice" said Edwina with finality. "You two have worked it out just fine for decades now, I don't think you should try to fix something that's functional. Myra, one of the students I'd like to send your way, she's deeply ignorant about the particulars of our era but she's brilliant and fascinated, I think you should make a protege of her. Someone you can use as a sounding board. It will make her career, to be known as your assistant, and she'll have the guts to ask questions when she should."

"Say more about her, then" said Myra.

"Raised in Oklahoma, part Comanche, full scholarships anywhere she wanted to go because her SATs were off the charts and her family has zip money, lesbian since childhood, and, quite rare, self-confident without being obnoxious" said Edwina. "Her name is Nicole but she goes by Nika, with a K."

Myra checked Ginny's face. Ginny nodded, and Myra said "Give her my number. See if she's available for dinner on Tuesday, maybe. Should you be here, too?"

"I'll think about it" said Edwina. "She might do better without me around."

Ginny squeezed Edwina's hand. "Thanks, professor." Edwina smiled angelically.

"Have I told you two that we've decided to rotate out all our veggies and herbs until we're growing only heirlooms?" said Ginny.

"Can you do that?" asked Allie. "They enough varieties to go around?"

"It's a steadily growing seedbase out there. Myra will have to adjust some of her recipes, we'll experiment until we see what works and what you all like in terms of flavor. But I'm tremendously excited about it" said Ginny. Talk switched to gardening.

Nika did come for dinner on Tuesday, along with Edwina, Allie, Sima and Chris. Ginny had woken up that morning to the beckon of a new painting, so Myra ordered three different Asian cuisines to free herself up from meal-preparation. While waiting on the delivery, she showed Nika her study, outlines, and research schedule. She was gratified by Nika's instant comprehension and the excitement in her voice. She was also impressed with how calmly Nika handled conversation at the table with this sextet of powerful, intimate women. After dessert, she told Nika to return the following week, after her trip to Philly, and they'd hammer out a work schedule. Nika left with a huge smile.

Ginny did a perfunctory rinse of her plate and silverware, her head turning frequently to her studio, but before she could be sucked back into Painterland, Chris got her attention by asking Allie "How'd it go with Margie?" Not Margie and Frances, Myra noticed.

As Ginny returned to the table, Allie leaned back and sighed. "They closed ranks."

"Oh, for fuck's sake" expostulated Ginny.

"Yeah" mourned Allie. "Frances insisted Imani know the score, not being exploited, and Margie even tried to act a little huffy with me that I could think she'd go along with anything different. But she dropped that fast." A small smile crossed Allie's face. "I said my piece, I know they heard me, and we had a nice dinner otherwise. I went back to my hotel. Next morning, I showed up at Imani's door and asked her to breakfast."

Chris let out a whoop, and Myra said "You did what? How'd you get her address?"

"I have skills" said Allie with a growing grin. "We had some truly excellent home fries and a frank talk. She hadn't talked with Frances since the day before, so I got her unprepared. But she say the same thing, she not being led down the garden path, she just enjoying what's there. It a mass delusion. Roswell" concluded Allie.

"By god, I wish I could be there to see Frances' face when Imani tells her about your tracking her down!" crowed Ginny.

"I not heard a word from Margie, have ya'll?" asked Allie.

Myra giggled. "Nope. I probably shouldn't be enjoying this so much. I keep telling myself, it's in her long-term best interest. She wants Frances rock-solid in her life forever. But I bet she's dropping kittens out her ass tonight."

"I can hear the tiny mews as they splat on the floor" agreed Chris, making Ginny grimace momentarily, but Myra and Allie hooted with laughter.

As Myra packed the next night for her trip the next day, she called Margie's cell but got the voice mail. She left a warm, sweet message, telling her how long she'd be gone and what hotel she and Allie were using. Margie didn't return her call then or while they were gone. She doubted Ginny would hear the phone to answer it for the next couple of days. Ginny did finish her painting in time to make her date with Edwina on Saturday. She and Allie shared a cab from the airport, coming in late at 2 a.m. Ginny was asleep and woke up long enough to kiss her, ask if she was all right. "Happy to be with you" said Myra, snuggling her head on Ginny's shoulder. She dropped off fast.

After only five hours of sleep, Ginny woke up Myra, saying "I need you, something's wrong." Myra sat up and looked at the phone -- it was still in its cradle. "Who -- are they okay?" she asked in confusion.

"It's not someone we know" said Ginny, handing Myra a T-shirt and sweats. "The back yard..."

Myra stumbled after Ginny, straightening her shirt, as Ginny went to the sliding door by the deck. She pointed silently.

All of the deck furniture was in disarray. Some of it had been overturned. The bench was broken, and the chaise longue had been thrown into the pool where it drifted, half-submerged. Its cushions were ripped to shreds, and white fluff was everywhere. This was what Myra took in first.

"Oh my god" said Myra. She looked beyond the pool to the fence, searching for how the vandals had gotten in. The gate and boards of the fence looked intact, as did the cat-proof wire overhang which topped the perimeter. She slid back the door to step outside to go take a clear view of the other side of the yard.

"Wait" said Ginny, putting her hand on Myra's forearm. Myra realized Ginny was trembling. She moved in close to her, lending warmth and protection. Ginny said "Put on shoes."

Myra stepped into wellies by the back door. She took Ginny's hand and they walked into the mess. Myra's attention was focused on a small section of wire above the fence near the back corner. It didn't look right. Before she could point it out, Ginny cried "Oh no" in a tone of utter anguish. She leaned against Myra heavily, and Myra shifted her weight to hold Ginny, looking where Ginny was staring.

The vegetables had disappeared. Every plant was torn from the dark, rich earth, leaving gaping pocks. Myra slowly realized all Ginny's beloved tomatoes, squash, lettuces, marigolds -- everything was wilted and shrunken uprootings which lay dead on the grass over the back half of the yard.

She felt like she couldn't bear it, because Ginny wouldn't be able to bear it. She wrapped her arms around Ginny and kept repeating "No, no." Ginny was mute and stiff for a couple of long minutes. Then she pulled jerkily from Myra's embrace and walked forward to a bedraggled baby cabbage, browned and flattened by what must have been a foot stomp. Ginny picked it up and pulled leaves from it hopelessly, trying to find a salvageable interior. When she could not, she let it drop from her hands listlessly.

"I don't..." she began.

Myra refocused on the boundary. Yes, the wire had been cut, next to the tree in the corner. She thought she could see a few broken branches in the tree, too, where "they" -- whoever it was -- had climbed down into their yard.

She said "We need help." Ginny stared at her blankly. "Who could possibly help?" she said stupidly.

"Come on, we have to go back inside" said Myra. She took Ginny's hand again, which was disturbingly cold, and led her into the house. As they passed the hot tub, she saw something dark at the bottom, distorted by the water. It wasn't until she was in her study that her brain identified the relic as the metal Gila monster sculpture which had guarded their pet cemetery.

She sat heavily on her daybed, pulling Ginny close beside her and draping a quilt over them both. Ginny was in shock, she suddenly thought. She picked up the phone receiver and dialed Allie's house.

Edwina answered. "About to head out the door, what's the haps?" she said cheerfully.

"Someone broke into our yard. They killed Ginny's garden."

She wasn't able to explain more than that, except to say neither of them were injured. Allie and Edwina said they'd be right over. But Allie must have called Chris, because Chris got there first, letting herself in the front door and yelling Myra's name. Myra realized the alarm had not sounded, not when she and Ginny had gone outside nor when Chris came in.

"Back here" called Myra. She asked Ginny "Did you turn off the alarm when you got up this morning?"

Ginny didn't answer. Myra clearly remembered setting the alarm before she had gone to bed. When Chris reached them, Myra said "I think she's in shock", looking at Ginny.

"Have you called the cops?" asked Chris, glancing out the glass wall.

"No. Nobody."

Edwina and Allie came in the front door then. After hugging Myra and Ginny repeatedly, they went out in a group to look at the devastation. Edwina was the first back in, going to the kitchen to make tea.

Myra said to Ginny, "You need to tell me what you're feeling."

Ginny said slowly "I didn't. Turn off the alarm. I was going to my studio when I"

"We'll replant, darling. Every bit of it" said Myra, as Edwina brought them mugs of tea. Myra took a sip; it was milky and sweet.

"Did you look outside when you got in last night?" Edwina asked Myra. Chris and Allie came back in, grim-faced, as Myra said "No. I didn't turn on any lights except the living room, and that was only to get to the bedroom. But I do recall pushing the 'set alarm' button."

"Did it beep in response?" asked Chris.

Myra thought. "I don't remember."

"There's marks on the lock here outside the sliding door" said Allie. "Was it locked this morning?"

Myra felt a jerk, and pure terror streamed through her. She closed her eyes to focus. "Yes. I was looking at the chaise longue floating, but then I looked down at the inside latch and turned the lever to open it" she said, and opened her eyes again to stare at Allie. "You think...did someone try to get in the house?"

"We need to find out" said Allie gently. "You have to call your security service, but I'm sure they'll want a police report."

"I hate the cops" said Myra.

"I know" said Allie.

Edwina squeeze in next to Ginny and asked her softly "Last night, when you came home after dinner with me? What did you do?"

The tea was working. Ginny was tracking more easily.

"I...pushed the alarm when I came in, it's just automatic, you know? I...don't remember if it beeped or not. I -- what did I do? The house was so dark. And empty. It made me feel...bad. I went to Myra's desk and checked e-mail, because -- I wanted a connection, if nobody was here.'d sent me a message from the airport in Denver, saying you were delayed." A grateful smile flooded her face as she looked at Myra. "I hated the news, but it was so good to hear from you just then."

Ginny took two breaths, and continued. "I wrote Margie, and Gillam, and Cathy. I looked at some stuff online..." Her voice choked, and she said "Heirloom seed places."

But she did not cry. Not good, thought Myra.

"Then...I walked back to my studio and looked at the new canvas on the drying wall. I checked on the geckos. I was still so tired, from finishing the painting and going to meet Edwina on Saturday with only four hours sleep. And being out all day with her again on Sunday. So I went on to bed, to wait for Myra. I -- yes, I used the keypad here by the back door to reset the alarm, I did."

"So you didn't go outside at all, or look in the yard?" pressed Edwina.

"Not once on Sunday" said Ginny.

"What about Saturday?" asked Chris.

"I worked until dawn" said Ginny slowly. "I ate oatmeal and a big wedge of cheese, then, standing at the stove." Typical for Ginny if she'd been in Painterland without Myra to feed her. "And a banana. Two glasses of milk. No, I didn't look outside then, either, or go out. I crashed. Got up when the alarm rang, showered, went to meet you all at the boat place. When I came home, it was dark then, too, though I'd left the light on in my studio. I turned it off, and went to the bedroom. To call you" she said to Myra.

"We talked until you were sleepy" said Myra.

"Yeah. And I'd set the alarm when I went to the bedroom, because I didn't think I'd get back up" said Ginny.

"So..." Chris took Ginny's hand tenderly in hers, something Myra had seldom seen her do. Ginny's fingers gripped Chris's tightly. "The truth is, this could have happened any time over the weekend? Is that right, Ginny?"

Myra had a sudden, brutal image of someone hiding in the dark of their yard, watching Ginny paint through the glass wall. She felt bile rise in her throat.

Ginny was frozen, her eyes fixed on Chris. Finally she croaked out "Friday. That afternoon, I got dizzy. I was burning up. I got in the pool, rinsed off my sweat. Then I cut some lettuce and the last of the cherry tomatoes for a quick salad, those little grape tomatoes..."

Finally the dam burst, at the implicit destruction of the grape tomatoes. Ginny wailed. Edwina and Myra both cradled her, Myra murmuring "We have all the seeds. And we'll get even more, new kinds. We'll bring it all back to life."

"Why would someone do this?" bawled Ginny.

Myra had no answer. Chris, however, looked grim again. She ventured "Probably they meant to rob you. Maybe they knew Myra was gone, maybe they were keeping track. But they couldn't get in the door, or these walls which are a lot more indestructable than they look. So they vented their frustration on what was nearby."

Chris thought someone was watching Ginny, too, realized Myra with a fresh wave of nausea.

"Why the fuck didn't your security people call when the circuit failed? Isn't that wire border on the fence part of your system?" asked Allie.

"Supposed to be" said Myra.

"Maybe they did call, and I didn't hear them" said Ginny guiltily. Myra turned to the phone machine and pushed the play messages button. Margie had called twice, plus Ginny's agent and someone wanting a donation for a project. There were also two hang-ups, with loud dial tone leaping to Myra's ears.

Chris went to the phone dial and cycled through the called ID. "Four are labeled 'no information given'" she reported. "Margie's here, so at least two of the unknowns you can ID because they left messages."

"Time to call the police" said Allie firmly. Chris picked up the receiver and dialed, handling all the ensuing transfers and reports with seldom-seen patience. The rest listened intently. When she hung up, she said "They say someone will be here by noon."

"Okay, now your security place" said Allie, taking the phone from Chris. The number was on speed dial. She was blunt and increasingly angry. By the time she hung up, her news was not news at all.

"'Why, lookee here, there sure has been a circuit break, happened Friday night. No idea why you didn't get a call or someone out here to check on you. Very, very sorry. A rep will be here to assist the cops in their investigation.'" Allie's voice was venomous.

"Thank all that is holy, neither Beebo or Narnia were here, maybe out in the yard when..." said Myra.

"I'm making toast and eggs" announced Edwina. "You have to eat."

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" remembered Myra belatedly. Edwina snorted as she went into the kitchen.

"You getting a new security company" declared Allie.

"You got that right" seconded Chris.

Ginny was looked at Myra with fear on her face.

"I know" said Myra to Ginny. "Listen, I'll see how soon Nancy can see us. We'll do this with her." When Ginny nodded, Myra picked up the phone and called Nancy.

Over the next several hours, the five of them dealt with various phases of clean-up. The police officer who arrived, a white woman, was disinclined to even call in a forensics unit until Myra said "We want this door printed. And the outside glass. We want footsteps in the soil preserved. This is not just an attempt at major theft, I believe the element of surveillance means assault was possible and only thwarted by circumstances."

The cop all but sneered at her. "I don't see a rich and famous lifestyle here. Are you known to collect valuables on the premises somewhere?"

Myra's voice went very soft -- what Gillam referred to as hani hunter state. "My partner is world famous for her art. On the 'premises' at this moment is over half a million in sellable paintings. Someone knowledgeable planned this. It may be that kidnapping was a consideration as well, since they hit while I was out of town." Myra's emphasis on 'knowledgeable' was laced with scorn.

The cop tightened her jaw. "Half a million?" she said, looking around her.

"We're insured for three million in art, we simply don't have a full load of canvases on board at the moment" said Myra. "You need to consult with the appropriate experts in your department." Clearly not you her tone implied. Chris's glowering menace backed her up.

The security company rep was a soft-handed white boy with a paramilitary haircut and glib patter, neither of which worked on Myra and Ginny. In front of the cop, Ginny said "Your inexcusable lapse could have been life-threatening. We'll be terminating our contract as soon as we can arrange for your replacement. With no penalty to us. Non-negotiable." He didn't stick around after he copied the police report number.

It was Myra and Chris who slid into the pool and muscled the waterlogged chaise longue out to Ginny and Edwina. "Will the wood swell and rot?" worried Myra.

"If it does, we'll find another" said Ginny. Since they had established an appointment with Nancy for the next morning, Ginny had snapped back to her usual crisp competence. This was tinged with rage, but that was true for all of them. One of their own had been threatened and indirectly assaulted. They longed to ride out in posse.

Myra also retrieved the Gila monster sculpture from the hot tub. Ginny dried it and inspected it for damage. "It's fine" she assessed. "But you go shower. You too, Chris. They may well have pissed into our tub or pool."

Myra felt her skin crawl. She went to her bedroom, got some sweats and a shirt for Chris, and they went to different bathrooms. When Myra got out, Ginny was on the phone with Margie, sitting on Myra's daybed with Edwina nearby. Myra could tell from Ginny's tone that Margie was freaking out at a moderate level. She did sign language to asked "Do I need to get on the extension?" Ginny shook her head. Myra sat down at the dining table next to Chris, hand-combing her still-wet hair.

"Maybe you two should get your own dog" said Chris. "Something with big teeth."

Myra sighed. "Or a leopard. The problem is, our travel plans through next spring preclude healthy pet-bonding. I guess I need to think about maybe not going away so much."

"No fucking chance" said Allie, settling in beside her. "We not gonna let lowlifes change you art, neither one of you. We'll stay here at the house while you gone."

"I like the leopard idea" grinned Chris. "I could use a big chunk of fresh meat right now."

"Hell, so could I" said Myra, turning to look at the clock. "We've missed lunch. I'll go raid the freezer if you'll fire up the grill, Kash-Kash. The one inside."

"I'll do potatoes" said Allie.

In the storage room, Myra chose Ginny's favorite veggies from the jeweled rows of mason jars, already mourning the absence of fresh salad. She took lobster from the freezer as well as steaks.

Ginny was still on the phone but from eavesdropping as she prepared a salt and garlic rub for the steaks, Myra deduced she had switched to a call with Gillam. In a few minutes, Ginny walked into the kitchen and said "He wants to hear from you directly." Myra handed the platter of steaks to Chris and told Ginny "Three pounds of shelled lobster here, how do you want to prepare it?"

"I'll take over" said Ginny as Myra claimed the phone.

Gillam said "I can be there in an hour."

"First of all, no, you can't, not if you drive safely. And -- we're okay here. We weren't earlier, but the sisterhood has convened, we're about to stoke up on protein, and there's Nancy in the morning."

Gillam's voice was higher than usual. "Is this as sinister as I think it was? Mama's downplaying it, but..."

"Sugar boy, honestly, it's scared me down to my toes" said Myra. Ginny glanced at her. "This will take some retooling. But I feel up to it."

"I want to do something" said Gillam.

"You always do. I can't give you a task yet, but I promise I will when I think of one" said Myra.

"Well, me and Carly are driving up next weekend. We'll help replant the garden" said Gillam.

"Great idea. We'll save you lots of hard labor" said Myra. She was watching Ginny sautee shallots found in the crisper in a voluminous amount of butter, adding dill, curry, cardamum, and a trace of saffron. Interesting. Ginny lowered still partly-frozen chunks of lobster meat into this simmer, almost submerging them. She didn't usually cook with so much fat. But Ginny knew her own body wel, and if she was craving butter, she needed it.

Half an hour later, at the table, Ginny forked open yellow flaky baked potatoes and poured the buttery lobster ambrosia over them. Everyone else followed her example. Ginny took half of a porterhouse as well. They feasted, managing to save a heaping plate to send home with Chris for Sima when she got off work. It was 4:00 by the time they stacked plates in the dishwasher and, as if on the same lever, all turned to look out the glass wall.

The deck had been swept and all the blown cushion fiber picked from the yard. Allie had started draining the pool and hot tub, which would take days and hours respectively.

"A colossal waste of water" said Ginny. "But I can't trust what might be in it."

The broken bench was irreparable, according to Chris, so she had reduced it to firewood for the coming winter. The birdfeeder cracks had been patched with duct tape and the tubes refilled.

The breach in the fence was still there, and the alarm was nonfunctional except for fire detection and the panic button. Myra said to Ginny, "Do we sleep on high alert with our bedroom door open or barricade ourselves in?

Ginny leveled on her a dark blue smudgy gaze. "We don't change a thing. I pity anybody stupid enough to fuck with us again."

"That steak was a tonic for you" grinned Myra.

"We gonna head home, if you okay" said Allie.

"We are, thanks to you" said Ginny, giving Allie, Edwina, and Chris in turn lavish hugs and kisses. Chris looked embarrassed but returned the hug.

"Call me" Chris mutterered to Myra.

"Always" said Myra.

When their friends were gone, Myra looked at Ginny and said "What now? We won't be hungry again until nearly bedtime."

"That organic nursery you complain is too far away stays open late on weeknights" said Ginny.

Myra picked up her keys. "Let's go." Ginny walked back to check the lock on the sliding door, remarking "Margie said she was worried about me all weekend, didn't know why."

"Well, Allie's visit..." pointed out Myra as they went through the front door.

"Yeah. But this gets her out of that sticky wicket, at least for now" said Ginny.

"They are both incredible kids. Reliable and giant-hearted" said Myra.

"I want to try strawberries in one of those special pots, on the deck" said Ginny. Myra didn't see it as a change of subject at all.

"Whatever strikes your fancy, we're going for it" said Myra.

"And let's stop for Thai wraps on the way home" said Ginny.

"Excelsior" said Myra.

© 2008 Maggie Jochild.


letsdance said...

Whoa! Scary, Maggie. Excellent writing too.

kat said...

totally scary. I think I shouldn't have read that right before going to bed. I double-checked all the locks before I crashed!