She held up afinger to say "wait just a sec," finished the entry she was writing, andcame out from behind the counter. She unlocked the door."Well good morning darling," she said as Marcia bustled into the shopwith her packages. "So what is it going to be today?" Orange-spice muffins and blueberry goat cheese tarts." Yum," Grace said. "You can put me down for one of each."There are places that seem to exist because people were intending to gosomewhere else and didn't quite make it. They tired or got hurt or facedunexpected obstacles they lacked the resources to surmount. Perhaps theywere turned away from wherever they really wanted to go. Maybe thedestination they imagined didn't exist at all.Hope Crossing was such a place. People seemed to gather here like flotsamon a beach. On the map it was best described as located "in-between."Even the tributary of the river that watered it to life some hundred andthirty-five years ago seemed to have wandered off in this direction. Not on her fair skin or flowing black hair. Her face and the front of her neck were the only bits of her body not covered in gleaming rubber, yet she looked fresh as a daisy.“How do you do that???”“What? Magic?”“Stay cool in the middle of a freakin desert! I suppose that's magic too?”She giggled. “It's another technique. A spell of sorts. Temperature regulation is elementary to us.”“I don't doubt it. The only time I've seen you sweat is during our marathon sessions.”“Of course. I mean, I could prevent perspiration while I fuck your ass into oblivion, but where's the joy in that? Becoming a dirty mess is half the fun!”James laughed in agreement. As they continued on their way, the conversation shifted to several pleasant memories and their plans for the future. For a little while, they both forgot that they were headed toward something that could bring a screeching halt to all they held dear.Twenty minutes passed quickly and James knew they were closing in on their target. Their.
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