catches mind fog

I made an impatient clucking sound and stepped forward.
Butters fumbled what looked like a glass Christmas ornament from his coat’s inner pocket and flicked it at me weakly.
Winter was still upon me. I bent my knees a little and caught it on the fly, careful not to break it. “Whoa,” I said. “Easy there, killer. I’d rather not have us both forget why we’re standing out here in the sleet.”


Skin Game Chapter 29, Page 228