TM #208: Four

By the time Turnbull had finished sentry duty outside the Consulate, shaken out his peacoat, and stamped his damp boots dry, Ray had read the grand total of four pages. He'd intended on getting through the entire book before the Mountie came back but he'd started with the rule section and it had been downhill from there. The references to the broom had made him laugh so loud that Inspector Thatcher had poked her head out of her office and glared him a third eye right in the middle of his forehead. The rest of the time he'd spent rocking back and forth in the chair, completely baffled. Eye on the Hog? Burning a stone? Sweeping? Housework?

( Ray snorted and flipped a page. )