Melancholy Baby

The elongated sun square had moved up my wall. The loft had that kind of hissing silence that a home has, which is different from the silence in a forest. If Felix had killed somebody finding Tommy Noon, and I couldn’t know that he didn’t, would the gunshot make a sound? Was the saloon they had given Richie purchased with ill-gotten gain? Almost certainly. Did Richie run it honestly? Yes. Would we have nailed Lolly Drake without Felix’s help? Maybe. It was all too complicated for me. Perhaps “she” and I could talk about it. I shifted on the bed so I could hug Rosie.

“The times, they are a-changing,” I said to her.

Rosie seemed mildly annoyed at being woken.