She’d made it to the fairy house! All Old Mabel had to do was switch out a wood with an iron. Simple. “Hello in there,” she spoke to Keat Owens The Joker positioned beside the door. “Anyone home?” No answer. She gently tapped her iron several times against his chest.


“Stop doing that and get inside,” a muffled voice then issued from within. Old Mabel retracted the iron. Keat Owens’ face remained motionless behind the Joker card. “They’re waiting for you. *I* waited for you. Go ahead, go on….” Old Mabel heeded the command.

She noticed a picture of a cartoon man with yellow hair above the green table in the side yard before ascending the stairs.


“Roostre,” she said while waking up.


“Next time I’m just going to walk into the fairy house, Baker Bloch, and not attempt communication with The Joker.”

“Probably a good idea,” Baker responded. He was trying out a black beer tonight. “Incremental entry. I don’t think I’ve personally had a dream like that. Serial.” Something then seemed to be clawing on the roof of the bar. “What’s that?”



“Um, probably just the wind?” But Old Mabel had started looking around for a light switch.

Rhoda knew what it was. And he knew about Roostre. He wisely kept his mouth shut concerning all that mentioned stuff tonight. Dreams, pheh.


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