“You’re going on a Crime Bake panel, too?” says Spence.
“Yup,” says Admin. “Gotta run. It’s about building suspense. Can I borrow a copy of Dog On It?”
“Don’t you have one?” says Spence.
“I returned it to the library,” Admin says.
Spence hands over a copy.
“I’ll talk about this scene,” says Admin.
From Dog On It:
A cold place, with lights that were much too bright shining on machines I didn’t understand. Don’t get me started on machines. The lawnmower is one of the worst, and these, not much like lawnmowers, somehow looked just as bad. I turned back toward the metal door: closed.
“Here you go, big fella,” said the man. “Hop right up.”
Up there? On the metal table? Why would I want to do that? Of course I stayed where I was, four paws planted on the floor. The woman reached out, patted me. Like the other woman, the one at the front desk, she was an expert patter.
“Everything’s all right,” she said. Pat, pat.
“Just need to take a quick look at you,” said the man. “Then we’ll be all done.”
Their voices were gentle. And their hands, too: they lifted me up onto the table. It was cold, that metal table.
“Lie down, there’s a good fella.”
I stayed where I was, standing up, panting a little despite the cold.
“Lie down, you’ll feel much better,” the woman said.
“Have you out of here in no time,” said the man.
The woman glared at him again. I didn’t know why, didn’t care. My mind was on something else: did he mean have me out of this room, or out of the whole place, the shelter? Getting out of the shelter: that was what I wanted. I was so busy thinking about getting out of the shelter that I didn’t pay much attention to them nudging me over onto my side, oh so gently. Every move was gentle. They knew how to handle my sort of guy.
Topper: please try uploading again. Photo didn’t appear.
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