Darting inside, he closed the door behind him. He went over to the desk, scanning its contents without touching anything, and into the bathroom, doing...the same, checking the trashcans for condoms, pill bottles, etc. He walked over to the bureau, and as he was about to open the top drawer, the door latch clicked. The breath caught in his chest, and his blood ran cold. Shit! He quickly let himself into the deep closet, moving all the way to the back, and closing the louvered door behind him.. "Hi, Shelly," he said to me.I looked at him, dumbfounded. The dog, actually a wolf with two different colored eyes, wagged his tail, jumped on me and started licking my face."No bathrobe?" I finally said as I petted the animal."It may be warm for January, but it is still January in New York, Shelly," he replied. "I'm here because of your tears." Why me, Wiz? Can I call you Wiz?" I asked, hoping this wasn't a dream."You have made me more of a real person than any other writer, except Bill Hart,". More

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