17, 183. Time for a tea break, and maybe a little more outdoor ornament hanging. I am getting to the climax of this novella, and it’s going to involve a lot of different people running around somewhat frenetically, which is always difficult to write because there’s so much logistical stuff to juggle, with he saids and she saids and so forth, and all I really want to write here is:
Excursions and Alarums!
Maybe the reader can figure it out from that?
“As I opened my own door, I saw another open at the far end of the hallway, and Reginald slipping inside – I hesitated, wanting to make sure all was clear before continuing. It was one thing to give your husband your blessing for a dalliance, but somehow it seemed a little much to actually watch it going on. Once the door had closed safely behind him, I started down the hall, only to see the same door opening again a moment later. Had John changed his mind? Was Reginald about to be given the boot? What would that mean for my own evening plans?
But I was startled to see Ezili emerge instead – despite the mask she still wore, there was no mistaking her lush figure. She said not a word, only winked at me, and then ducked across the hall and through another door. Music sounded forth as she opened it, a jovial jazzy beat, and her hips swayed as she sashayed inside. It closed behind her, and silence fell once more – an oddly complete silence, given how loud the music had been a moment ago. Lord Branok must have truly excellent soundproofing in his walls.”