Patrolling

 

The day dawned bright, with the sun torching its way through the hazy air of a Texan July; time to go on patrol. So much better than lying and moaning on a post-op sickbed and after all, movement, we're told, is a sign of life.

The alley cats were out in force. They were on patrol as well, though much of this seemed to be about an ad hoc all round defense. Well, they are irregulars.

The Fuel Stop was up and running too. They've had bullet proof(?) perspex forever, way before the Covid craze brought sheets of see through plastic to our stores. Does the plastic defend against bullets? Perhaps. Does it stop a virus? Maybe as much as the vaccines themselves.

Then it was time to stroll by Cursed House. According to legend, Cursed House used to be a dental office and home to untold horrors, and for a fact it's seen a stream of unfortunate tenants over the last few decades. 

These leave, shrieking, and are mostly never heard from again. It's under new management these days, let's see if the renovation cleanses the place from its wicked spirits. And there you have it. A good morning, well spent.

Cheers,

LSP