but it wasn’t a miracle. I’d wager it was more on the lines of an aloe plant. You smeared a bunch of it to heal a little bit faster than other methods and claimed it was miraculous.
I didn’t believe in miracles. But I could use one to get this shop making a profit.
With such sound reasoning to bolster me, I spent the next hour shaping some bowls. Not great ones and yet recognizable and ready to be fired in the oven. My next daunting task. I could only assume the chimney was okay because, when I wiggled the doohickey thing that the internet claimed controlled the air flow, I could see daylight. I threw in a chunk of wood from the house then crumpled paper around it. Unlike my pot belly stove at home, the oven smoked, meaning I quickly slammed the door shut, ran for the narrow window and cranked it open, and then proceeded to wave the flap on the oven until the smoke stopped edging past the metal hatch.
As a future mental note, less paper, more open flue thingy. The good news was I got that oven heated, meaning I could bake my bowls. By the end of the day, I had my first cooling pieces.
Tomorrow, after I finished taking pictures and cataloguing them online, I could paint. Look at me, accomplishing stuff. I was rather pleased with myself even if I smelled a bit hickory smoked.
I washed up and noted the time. Just after six. I should get going or I’d be late for girls’ night. I shoved my hand into my bottomless purse, looking for my keys and instead found the puzzle box. My fingers curled around it, and I pulled it out of my bag.
Why did it fascinate me so much? Something so small wouldn’t hold anything super valuable. Unless it was a ring with a large gem. Hmm. Wouldn’t that be a coup even at thirty percent?
Only if I could open the box, though. I turned it over in my hands. Over and over. Spinning it, faster and faster—
Honk.
A car outside leaned on its horn and startled me. Blinking, I wondered how long I’d been standing there. I shoved the box back into my purse. I really should go. I hustled to my car, nervous about the fact daylight had been chased by winter’s early darkness. Despite not feeling threatened, I drove as fast as I dared along the country roads to my place. The entire time, I watched for falling trees and Molotov-cocktail-wielding individuals. Would the person stalking me try something new? Which led to thoughts of who was behind it.
Could it be Martin? The more I thought of it, the more I wondered if I should call Officer Murphy and let him know I might have a suspect. Would he even bother trying to look for Martin? What if I steered him at my ex and it turned out to be the wrong person?
The not knowing had me white-knuckling it home. I managed to do it without crashing, being crushed, set on fire, or running into wild animals, and just in time, too.
Flakes drifted down from the sky. I was finally seeing some signs of winter. I just hoped the paint on the sign had set enough during the day because we were going below zero Celsius tonight.
Worst-case scenario, I’d buy the necessary letters at a craft shop and nail them on. The store was going to open one way or another as soon as those windows were fixed!
As I headed up the porch steps, I spotted a wreath on the door. A holiday wreath made of real fir and laced with red ribbon.
Very festive and a reminder Christmas was fast approaching. Meaning, I really should get my ass in gear and start buying some gifts. I had some special people in my life that needed acknowledgement.
I walked into a heavenly scent. My stomach rumbled, and I told it to quiet down. Chances are whatever cooked on the stove wasn’t low carb and therefore not diet approved. The other day I’d managed to eat Winnie’s sauce only because I skipped the pasta and the bread that I used to eat too much of. It wasn’t because I didn’t want it. I craved the buttery toasted bread with its melted cheese and the firm bite of spaghetti that sometimes needed to be slurped.
Saying no sucked. I liked food. The taste. The texture. The way it filled me up. However, I didn’t like