‘I will take a leak have a quick shower and make breakfast. How many slices of toast?’ She gave me a wicked grin. ‘Ok. I will bring a mountain... Butter or margarine?’ ‘Butter.’ she said. As I left her, I saw her hand move down to her crutch. I did my ablutions and went down to the kitchen made a huge pile of toast almost the whole loaf. Found the marmalade and put a generous dollop into a dish taking care not to transfer the evidence of a sloppy males use, straight from the jar with a knife. Panicked, he swiveled left and right, searching, and then he saw her, clear on the other side of the plaza. How had she gotten so far ahead of him? And where was she going? He ran to catch up, past the empty fountains and the blank-eyed statues of Beethoven and Father Serra. When he was a kid he used to imagine he heard the statues talking. It scared the shit out of him. His mother convinced him he was just hearing echoes, and he guessed she was right. But even now they gave him the willies.. More

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