Murder Boogies With Elvis
“She was eating supper out so I shouldn’t worry. She knew where the key was.It was freezing outside and the clouds had lowered again. If it weren’t March, I could have sworn that it was going to snow. I brought Woofer inside, and he immediately lay down on the heat vent. Muffin, as always, was delighted to have him in the house. She rubbed against him adoringly; he sighed and put up with her attentions.I turned on the early news to hear the weather report. Thirty-four degrees tonight with wrapar...ound clouds from the cold front that had come through. No precipitation. All of those extensive green blobs on the radar were virga, the weatherman explained, precipitation evaporating before reaching the ground.I was considering a hot bubble bath when the phone rang.“Bring garlic bread,” Sister said and hung up.Fred came in the back door, kissed me on the neck, and got a beer out of the refrigerator.“It’s not supposed to snow, is it?” he asked.“Not according to the weatherman. Did you have a good day?”“Fine.MoreLess
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