“See? He likes you. He’s staring at you instead of me.”
“And…” said Lucas to the left of us, the reader or readers, “… you are?” He had to ask. The other seemed oblivious to the transformation that happened while they walked up the hill to here, not really a chance meeting since the town wasn’t that big.
“Baker. Baker Bloch. We just looked at the Falls Shack together the other day. You pay me rent. 15 bucks a month.”
“You are not Baker,” spoke Lucas. “Or at least the Baker I know.”
“Well of course–” Baker Bloch looked down at his non-gloved hands, his olive drab shirt, his black-gray shoes and pants. He was not the Baker he knew.
“Explain,” said Lucas. “Explain everything. Start with Carrcassonnee. How did you come up with such a krazy kooky name?”
I sat today with blog owner and blog stranger or newcomber. They asked me questions about my source. I, Carr, came up with something. Rrrrr. RRRRrrrrr. Rrr Rrr RRRRrrrrrrr. I start (continual raspberry noise).