“Morning.”
“Good morning.” The alien was still curled up on the trampoline where it had fallen asleep the night before, a mass of scaly flesh and intertwined tendrils.
“Marjorie wanted me to ask if you were hungry. Or thirsty. Or, you know, wanted to take a bath or anything.”
“You’re very kind. But I don’t think I’d fit in your tub.”
“Well, we’ve got a hose. Not very dignified, but it’d get the job done.”
“I’ll probably just dip into the river before I go.”
“Suit yourself. Don’t scare the early-morning fishermen too bad, most of them are pretty old.”
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