loose-feathers

Seven knew: six were now dead. Now I'm not saying I did it, though I'm not saying I didn't. (In fact, I'm just not saying anything ok?) Maybe they died of old age, maybe they just vanished one night after a showing at the opera. Maybe a drunk hit them with a car or a mall worker flipped and uzied them to death. Who knows, I don't. I definitely don't. Either way, one was left. But I'm sure we'll get to him in due time. For now I was busy with Sally. She's this cute little eight or nine year old. Well I don't know maybe she's younger or older but I can't be much off. I found her one day down by the docks picking through the scrap heaps, forag