Chapter Six
“Well, that was disturbing,” said Miles as he and Myrtle drove to the Goodwill.
“Oh, Wanda gives those dire predictions every time I see her,” said Myrtle, waving a hand dismissively.
“No, I mean that chicken.” Miles was gripping the steering wheel tightly as if the wayward fowl might somehow pop up at him out of his backseat to terrorize him further.
“It’s very brave of you not to have slathered on hand sanitizer as soon as we got to the car. I know that’s usually what you do. I was envisioning you putting hand sanitizer on your pants where the chicken brushed against you,” said Myrtle. “You know. As a sort of sterilizing method.”
“Don’t think I wouldn’t have. I happen to be out of hand sanitizer. By the time I’d remembered, we were already at Wanda’s house,” said Miles.
