Ignatius looks at me with a dead expression. He slowly removes the pipe from his mouth and blows smoke toward me. “I know who you are. I saw you walking up that first day. Bumbling about in the rain.” “Why does everyone think I was bumbling?” “I don’t need to know any more about you.” I step away to take a better look at all of his belongings. “Then I’ll just infer and make my own patterns about you.”
Oh shoot! Burnnnnn
