A FOOL ON OVERTIME

© Dana W. Paxson 2005

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A FOOL ON OVERTIME

1550 4D

Her face preoccupied with dinner preparation, Leil brushed back a long coil of hair and greeted them with, “Did you tell your father?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Well?”

“We worked it out for now,” Andrew said. He held out the packet. “I got you this.”

Leil unwrapped it and held up the watergem neckpiece. She started to cry. Its light played over their faces, glistening like a clear torrent in bright precious sunshine. “This is six day’s pay,” she said in a trembling voice. She put it on. She hugged Andrew and kissed him. “You’re such a fool.”

“A fool on overtime,” he said. The image of Engel‘s surprised face came back to him, from the scene with the pickpocket. He flinched inwardly, and thought, I’ve got to get them out of this place, out to the sun and the grass where there’s room to live.

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