by Harry B. Sanderford
Pushing the back door open, Doc was relieved to see the bluish flicker that meant Beth would be watching television. If he played it right he could thaw out in a warm shower and collect himself a bit before engaging in more than cursory conversation with her. It was not that he wished to avoid Beth; he'd become fond of her on his previous visits. She of course knew nothing of him, but her smile was his to keep whenever he manned the controls of her husband's body. "Gonna take a quick shower to warm up Babe," he shouted down the hall. Safe, he thought and gestured with hands already beginning to feel familiar as he watched them close the bathroom door.
6S
Harry B. Sanderford is a Central Florida surfing cowboy who'd sooner spin yarns than mend fences.