Pool_2

was like now, it's what you would expect of a prophet. Hey! Maybe that's why wizards wear blankets and go bare footed! Whatever. This man was no seer. If there was a green haze descending, Macaluso didn't see it. How would he? This very long day of surgery was weeks later, almost a month since the Teson Hall meeting. During that time, Shannon went from unconstrained round the clock school girl giggling enthusiasm with endless phone calls to and from students at Teson to a more measured working determination to a curious mute silence. Milton Blake hadn't returned yet and his secretary, inside out with fear, had placed his office belongings in a bank depository and vanished. There was no shortage of uneasy and unreconciled ruminations in this surgeon's psyche. Odd stuff was happening. Garbage men asked his wife, Mina, why they had no garbage lately. The question was followed by a warning. Watch out. Missing garbage is a bad sign. Sign? Of what? Why would anybody take our garbage? She wondered, and asked Marcus. He had no idea and so dismissed it. It does not take much to dismiss that which you do not understand when you are up to your hair in what you do understand - your work. Face it. Few of us understand most things. We don't get all bent out of shape because the process of calculating the dark matter in the universe from known celestial mass estimates and expansion of the universe measurements and all that sort of shit is not clear to us. Really. Screw it. Celestial doesn't live around here. That's somebody else's deal. Fixing kids was his. Garbage is - garbage. You put it out so that it will go away. Gone is good. Right? But as a question, it was still a raw end. Who steals garbage? Who spreads rumors about how one is.. well.. structured in their nether parts? There is just too much to do to be wasting mental energy on such crap. So you just do the work at hand and let that