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Knowing Too Much and Nothing at All

A shower appeared in my bedroom thirty seconds ago. No, not a shower. A tube of some sort, fogged glass. The door opens, steam pours out. Okay, maybe it is a shower. A man with neat hair and an old face steps out. He frowns. “You’re not Martin,” he says, then scowls, “crap.” He turns and looks at the shower, then back at me. “Where … Continue reading Knowing Too Much and Nothing at All