Moments later, it dawned on him. He’d meant to ask about some kayaks and gear she had in the garage and wanted moved, but he wasn’t sure where to....He put down his brush, wiped his hands and went inside.“Mrs. Tomlin?” he called out as he stood in the kitchen, moving to the stairs and calling up, “Mrs. Tomlin?”He made his way carefully up the stairs, gently calling her name, not wanting to surprise her. He peeked around the corner to the big master bedroom, finding it empty. He looked in the. As she had run back to the safety of—he assumed—her mother at the road side, her young limb had been snared by one of the many woodchuck holes which always became apparent when a crop was harvested. The grisly enormity of what would happen in a few more seconds caused his heart to race uncontrollably. The little girl would die in less than ten seconds. It would be a horrible and terribly painful demise as the giant farm implement tore her young frame apart, eviscerating her with its sharp. He was descended from slaves brought in to labor for their conquerors at menial jobs. He had nothing but contempt for the engineering prowess of their conquerors. Those people had only realized their inadequacies when it was too late. Several generations had passed, and his people had lost their engineering touch. They tried, but could not preserve the level of civilization their ancestors had known.Eventually, there had been a successful slave revolt, and the slaves now became the masters.. I morphed the shirt into a violet tank top with spaghettistraps, to match my hair, and the jeans I morphed into a pair of formfitting black low-rise jeans. The excess material I used to form a built-in bra in my shirt and a pair of socks that matched my top.Once dressed I yanked my hair irritably out of my shirt then, I openedthe door and stepped out into the hallway. I found myself facing Allison.She took one look at me and let out an annoyed sigh. "You didn't combyour hair did you?" she said.