tipytoz reviewed on 7/8/2007

Page 1: It is an unusually warm night in July, but I'm shivering badly as I stand on the substantial gray stone terrace outside my apartment. I'm looking out over glorious San Francisco and I have my service revolver pressed against the side of my temple. "Goddamn you, God!" I whisper. Quite a sentiment, but appropriate and just, I think.
I hear Sweet Martha whimpering. I turn to see she is watching me through glass doors that lead to the terrace. She knows that something is wrong. "It's okay," I call her through the door. "I'm okay. Go lie down, girl." Martha won't leave, though, won't look away. She's a good, loyal friend who's been nuzzling me good-night every single night for the past six years.
As I stare into the Border Collie's eyes, I think that maybe I should go inside and call the girls, Clair....................

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