My editor looked up as I approached. Small and stocky, Marion looked brisk even when seated behind a table.
“Stan?” Her brows rose as she took in my appearance. “You look—”
“Like hell. I know. You’re lucky I made it. Just give me a pen and point me toward the bug butts.”
She did as requested. “Do I hope that someday you’ll explain why you look like that?”
“Just watch for me on Fox News.”
She sighed. “You’ll do anything to get out of autographing books, won’t you?”
“And yet here I am.” I picked up the pen and pulled the first poster butt toward me. The Dag induced energy surge faded fast. I signed steadily for a small eternity, and finally the line decreased to a small trickle, then stopped altogether. I stretched my tired hand and gave Marion a piteous look.
“Can I take a break?”
“
