Dry wood floor the colour of gravy and a climbing wall.

Oh gosh, it was an observation, my friend Shadow’s wife Wanda said, not an insult.

Any time I find myself in a Block I start trying doors.

Grimacing, she eyes the reddish liquid in the shot glass. “What’s this?”

The aquarium's Angelfish Investors saw no need to step in when energy prices geysered, dressing up their own worries – as gulf-weed occluded pristine commercial goals elsewhere in their portfolio – as aggressive disappointment in the aquarium’s manager Mica.