[Message from the Dunmowkarate mailing list] help

[Abraham Farmer]

He had thought she was putting on an editors hat - maybe even trying on a collaborators chapeau, preparing to tell him what to write and how to write it.
He woke up around eleven, and almost as soon as Annie heard him stirring about, she came in with orange juice, his pills, and a bowl of hot chicken soup.
She closed the bulkhead, shot the bolt, and stood back, surveying the puddly driveway and the grass, which looked as though a heavy dew had fallen upon it.
If she shot Goliath first, she might very well be able to put a slug in Davids face before he could get that oogy goddam coat unbuttoned and his gun out.
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