Raining. Old place, smelled funny. This weird book… I dunno. Then back here.” “What?” “And Fluffy can talk!” she yelled, gesturing with bo...h hands to the black cat lounging on her kitchen table. “When did you get a cat?” Sally asked. She walked up to her friend and clasped her face in both hands. With her thumbs pulling her cheeks down, she peered into Kat’s eyes. “What’ve you taken? Are you on drugs?” “No, of course not,” Kat replied, shrugging her off. “Oh, never mind.” She collapsed wearily. Naturally, a few minutes later, he would tire again and his pace would drop, and the whip would be unfurled. Constantly, over eight miles, this same cycle. The goon was an accurate whip handler, it could not be denied. Maybe that was good news for Zac, whose face and neck entirely avoided the ministration of CP. Or, perhaps, it was bad news, for the guy seemed to uncover new and painful areas to strike each time. Diagonal stripes right to left, and left to right. Horizontal stripes along his. More

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