Repose

[Left on the desk when it's unattended: a small cardboard box sealed with packing tape. Elegant ink script inscribes, "Alexandra Jones."

Inside there is: a Colt Python wrapped in a white cotton handkerchief, divested of the rounds, which are tied in another handkerchief; a lost lipstick tube; and a small winter-blooming flower.]

I hear Bruce rolled into town to say hi.

[Delivery: Cris M]
[Delivered to the police station, mid-day, by six old ladies wearing big red hats and purple dresses: A bunch of really ugly mugs in a cardboard box with his name scrawled on the side in cheery bright yellow.]

[Locked to Iris M]
Hey. Can I order a huge cake? Like hella huge.

[Full moon. The very edges of town can make out the long howls and answering yips of a pack somewhere in the woods, an echoing series of call-and-answer that speak of belonging and solidarity. For wolf blood, the call of the alpha is invitation and promise of security without words.]

Thank you to everyone who worked so hard to bring my son home, he's safe and sound and eating everything in sight. Literally.

[Locked to Sparrow D]

Hi.

[Locked to Matt D]

Quick question.

[Locked to Cisco D]

Hello.

[After this. Early morning Saturday, the sign in the Repose music store window, the one with neat handwriting that essentially forbids anyone tunefully-inclined from entering in search of satisfaction? Yes. Gone. In its place a freer hand has lettered a sign that says 'sale, now on. Ask me about Beethoven, Litsz or Chopin for ten percent off extra'. The back door's still locked whenever the occupant rises and the front entrance is open as of ten am.]

[Still groggy from having just woken up (after her conversation with Cat, but before this), so it's locked to both of them at the same time:]

A doctor is coming over.

Who: Marie and OPEN
What: Full moon wolfie things
Where: The woods, edge of pack territory
When: Just after sundown
Warnings/Rating: N/A

( howling at the moon )