Its three oclo the m.
Bishops daughter is ill, stomach pains. Shes sleeping on the couch.
Bishop too is ill, chills and sweating, a flu. He t sleep. In bed, he listens to the occasional groans from two rooms away. Katie is fifteen and spends the summer with him every year.
Outside oreet, someone kicks on a motorcycle and revs it unfivingly. His bedroom is badly placed.
Hes given her Pepto-Bismol, if she wakes agairy Tylenol. He s himself in the sheet, pulls his t-shirt away from his damp chest.
Theres a radio playing somewhere in the building, big-band music, he feels rather than hears it. The steady, friendly air-ditioner hustling in the room.
Earlier hed takeo a doctor, who found nothing. "Youve got a bellyache," the doctor said, "stick with fluids and call me if it doesnt go away." Katie is beautiful, tall with dark hair.
Iernoon theyd gone, groaning, to a horror movie about wolves taking over the city. At vivid moments she jumped against him, press……（内容加载失败！）
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