(Chilli) See ya, Steve. Thanks! (*Wendy-J) Bye Steve Thanks! (sue) Same here as well--thanks for taking the time to chat tonight, Chilli. Bye for now.... (Chilli) My pleasure, Sue. Thanks! (Chilli) "A hush falls over the assembled throng." (PJ) Chilli, you said something earlier that struck a chord with me. (Chilli) A major? *Grin* (PJ) You know I agree with you about writing your stories for yourself. But do you think there's not some duty to . . . umm . . . write to the genre? To write to. “I thought maybe you could take one of these next time you travel on business.”She picked up a green nozzle with a bulbous end. “And this? It’s new, too -- isn’t it?”“That’s called a barium tip.”“Barium?”“For taking X-rays. The barium slurry is pretty thick so the tip has extra-large discharge holes. The end is pear-shaped so it’s less likely to pop out.”“Like a douche nozzle but smaller.”“Yep, but with bigger outlet holes. And, it’s flexible.” Lize bent it into a half-circle and nodded with. Her panic had caused the perspiration; causing the fabric to start clinging to her thin frame. She was a strange combination of red and blonde hair that should have hung to her waist. With the thick, recently washed hair in a French braid, it stopped about half way down her back. Was she a redhead with streaks of blond laced into it, or was she just a spectacular natural coincidence of dark brown, red and blond? Her skin tone also made it harder to diagnose her true hair color. Her skin had a. Sam was attempting, with limited success it looked like, to teach Jack to use a sword. Or, at least, how to bang long sticks together. Kids playing, in other words. She looked down at the current book.It was different than the others. Smaller. Heavier. Wendy frowned. She somehow had missed this one on her earlier explorations of the bag. It had a metal clasp, holding the volume closed. The fact none of the others had meant ... what? Hefting it in her hand, the clasp suddenly sprung, brown.