Reply To: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler

“I have no bloody idea what just happened here” mused Godfrey to his cashew nut, mimicking Liz’ odd behaviour when she talked to the drafts of air only she could see, and stopped dead in her tracks and with wide saucer-sized eyes as if she was talking to Faes invisible to mortals such as themselves.

“But I’ll expect Finnley would be able to ghostwrite all of it into a next bestseller. Wouldn’t be the first time, or the first Finnley to tackle the impossible.

“But seriously,… I feel a bit concerned,” he found talking to the renewed pile of cashews in his palm oddly soothing, as they one by one disappeared. “All this sudden concern of old age, retirement and whatnot. It’s not like Liz’. She’d better snap out of it. Her well of inspiration is getting drier every minute she spends worrying about money.”

He was considering naming the last cashew he’s salvaged. “What do you think, Rufus?”