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“Are you even here or am I talking to myself?”

He taps his cane again.

“I suppose that’s for you to decide,” he says. “But if you’re going to kill Mr. Howard, you ought to get to it.”

“I thought you’d be more on my side. If I take him out, it’s one more fuck-you to the rebel angels.”

“I am grateful,” he says. “But I think you’re making things harder on yourself deliberately.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You had a moment’s weakness and agreed to work for Wormwood. Now you’re punishing yourself for it.”

“Shouldn’t someone?”

He stands and the neon light from across the street flashes in his eyes.

“Deciding punishment and mercy is, traditionally, my job.”

I wave a hand at him.

“You’re not even here. I’m just talking to myself.”

“If that’s what you wish. Good night, James.”

“Good night, bus shelter. Good night, moon.”

Another car goes by, but there’s nothing to light up this time. I’m in the shelter alone.

I knew it.

There’s something on my leg.

It’s his cane. Anyway, it’s a cane. I probably found it or traded someone magic beans for it. However I got it, it’s good to have. I can’t stand up straight, so it helps me get to my feet.

I’m heading for a shadow on the corner when, I swear, a meteor crashes into me. I drop the cane and go down hard on my back.

I might have blacked out for a second because the next thing I’m aware of is an alien looking down at me. A pretty one too.

“Are you all right?” she says. “That skateboard asshole almost knocked you into the street.”

Her antennae bounce around amusingly as the alien helps me to my feet.

She squints at me.

“Oh shit. It’s you.”

“Who’s me?”

“You’re going to buy all the donuts in Donut Universe if you live through the weekend, remember?”

I smile up at her.

“I remember you. You’re not an alien at all.”

She helps me to my feet. Gets a good look at my purple and blue face.

“Oh my god. You look horrible. Did somebody beat you up? You need to go to the hospital.”