Shocked is the only emotion to adequately describe my feelings and facial expression when Miss Bianca told me why she had appeared at the door to my flat in the Mechanix Arms. Having seen how unfairly I’d been swindled out of the little restaurant I’d built with my bare hands (and some help from my friends), and being newly reformed-she was giving me the keys to the White Rabbit, and signing it over to my ownership once again, lock, stock, and barrel.
Not believing my luck, I headed over to the WR. The keys fit in the locks… the roof looked sound… the glass was all intact and there was even a cheery fire in the fireplace. I walked upstairs and checked the loft for dead bodies but found none. Moving quickly downstairs I saw Bookworm Heinricks lovely images of the wild west still up in the gallery, with no bloodstains or water damage on the marble floor. Figuring there had been a horrible kitchen fire, I opened the swinging door with some hesitation, but all was neat and tidy. Miss Bianca really did seem to be handing over the restaurant, with no strings attached! Sighing with relief, I silently sent a wish for her continued good health and luck as inadequate repayment for her unexpected generosity. Random acts of kindness prevail! Another silent curse to my errant and hopefully long lost husband for good measure, and I went thru the french doors onto the veranda to enjoy the fabulous view. The veranda is the shining jewel of the restaurant in my mind, a place for people to sit and marvel at the stars twinkling at night, a moonlit dance, and watching the many lovely airships and sea vessels in the busy port by day. I walked to the rail, greedily breathing in the slightly less sooty salt air.
Then, I saw this;
Surely it’s just… a… coincidence…?