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she breathed. (Apparently it really was the fish thing!) I thrones clenched my eyelids shut against any further independent displays and thrones flipped my nervous system the bird. I was her friend and I would support her emotionally in this, her time thrones of impending social ostracism. "They've still got a couple of copies left, and if you get down there right away ..." Ah! Emotional support via a private, secure phone line was one thing, but an actual physical appearance in unchartered (and fishy) waters was quite another! What to do, what to do? Would she call me next week and wonder why I hadn't gone yet? Hey—maybe a Turkish fishermen's convention tour bus would break down right in front of Ames and they'd wipe the place out ... Eventually, I searched for and found my dark glasses, sighing resolutely. Wrapping a kerchief securely around my head like a sultan's turban, I donned my leather trench coat and began my trek to the store ...
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