The continent is a wheel, The Man About Time thinks on the upstairs balcony of the 9th house he tried. Success finally? But 12:37: *time* for dinner.
—–
So I’ve marked that place with the filling recipe. You *still* want the apple pie, don’t you dear? ‘Cause I’m going to a lot of trouble with this.” She calls over while still washing her hands. “Dear? (pause) *Dear??*”
“Oh, sorry.” He looks down at the place setting and the contents. Apparently I’ll just do with the one apple right now, he thinks to himself, but says: “Sure. Er, since you’ve gone to all the trouble to find the recipe and all.” He again stares over at the lemon and lime on the far table.
The lemon and lime stared back at him.
“Um, *dear*?”
“Yes, husband of mine?” She was washing the last fingers.
“Do we still have that copy of ‘Floydada’ laying around somewhere?”
“Floy-*whata*?” She finally turns. It was then that Newtonia Kashkow realized the man sitting at the table with all the apples wasn’t her husband atall.
—-
“And *stay* out!” SLAM.
Oh well. On to the 10th!
Sunklands 