Not a Nut At All, Hardly

"So what in the world happened just now?" the former damsel in distress demanded, making it clear that this was an order rather than an inquiry.

Dylan shrugged, feigning uncertainty.

"What did you do?"

"Well-" This was just the kind of encounter the ex-cop wished he could avoid. It was extremely difficult for him to explain just what went on in his head during supernatural interactions.

"Well, what?"

"I just- I kind of put my thoughts into his thoughts to make him feel, you know, compassion for you," replied Dylan foolishly. "That's about it, really. Weird. I know." He laughed it off, feeling nervous.

Trisha cast him a skeptical glance.

"You... made him feel compassion for me."


"The gray blob."


"Through telepathy."

"Uh, something like that."

"You put your thoughts in its brain."


"So it has a brain."

"Yes, but, it's not like ours."

"I should think not. Tell me about it." She stared hard at him. "I'm extremely curious."

And that was when Dylan Stone knew for sure that she believed him and didn't think he was just some nut.

"It's a long story," he confided. "Meet me for breakfast tomorrow at the Early Sparrow, O.K.?"

Trisha nodded.

Oh, yes, he had himself a date! And his wife never had to know. Wait. His wife... no, no, no use thinking such sickening thoughts right now. Later.

Trisha Jenkins turned away and he watched her distinctive blonde hair bob up and down. She gazed back hesitantly for a moment, and smiled, reminding Dylan of victims he had assisted in his past job. In his old, ancient, faraway job.

"By the way," said this angel, "thank you for saving my life."

The End

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