“I refuse to die this time Jerome T. Newton. I’m going beyond the end of Newton — you — into Oblong.”
“It’s that girl that’s helping you,” Newton declared between clenched teeth. “From the *fu-ture*.”
“Maybe.”
Chef-detective Keat Petty Owens had already moved on from his stalking ghost to a different gallery. He was staring at the beginning of the second 1/2 of the 10×10. 51. “It’s All Here.”
He even gave his petrified hands back to Newton as a parting gift. Goodbye demo(n) alien. Forever. Maybe.
To Montana. And beyond…
Sunklands 