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Lord Fred rose from his hiding place. "Hold, base varlet!" he cried, pointing his sword at the man. "What manner of being are you?" The old man was bald as a rock. Wrinkles lined his face, but a strong vitallity shone out from underneath. A well taken-care of frame was evident behind the dark blue pajamas he wore. And slippers. The man was in his bed clothes? "Johnny?" the man cried, clutching his paper. "Is that you? Did you deliver the milk to the Vorlestis yet?" Fred realized the man's mind was gone. It had happened to other elderly people Fred had known. Gently, Fred pried the paper from the man's hand. It was...
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7/20/1999 2:39:42 AM
Extending Enabled
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