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    In a shower of glass, a white object tumbled onto the table. Both women leaped back in their seats, but it was too late and there was nowhere to go. Flecks of blood from the shards of glass welled up on their hands, arms and faces.

    “There goes the air conditioning,” Peggy said, almost hissing, picking up the object. It barely fit in Peggy’s hand and was wound around with fishing line. Under the line was something light and dark and under that what looked like a sharp, grey rock. Peggy took the smaller dagger from the shelf and cut the line. It parted instantly.

    “I thought that athame was ornamental and ceremonial,” Dana said.

    “I keep it honed razor sharp,” Peggy answered, in a low mean voice. Dana did a double take and looked at her closely. Peggy’s eyes were narrowed and hard. She unwrapped a paper from around a jagged stone and carefully unfolded and flattened it.

    “GET RID OF THE INTERLOPER,” it said in large block letters.

    Dana shivered and looked at the dagger and the hard look in Peggy’s eyes.



    Sorry about the hasty painting, but I must hurry if I'm going to leave today (That's still somewhat up in the air.) If I do leave, this will be my last post until I return. No time for links! Except these:

    Links to the COWBIRD installments of my serial novel hopeful, Discovery at Little Hog Island. (These are only links to cowbird stories, nothing else.)

    To start at the beginning of this serial novel, go here: first installment
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