At Hunters’ Gate
The next morning, at Hunters’ Gate, Brian is wild-eyed.
He can hardly contain himself.
“I was walking by your portion of the park last night,” he exclaims. At first, I was basking in that all-too-brief ozone smell of an Arctic block.
“But then came this blast of doe urine like you would not believe. I mean, like dust-storm force stench pushed through the park, and I could trace its path.
“The park police also smelled it, and said that it was no doubt from the horse-drawn carriages. More like a convention of horse-drawn carriages! When I told them that it was distinctly deer, they made those WooHoo! crazy signs and sounds at me and told me to get a grip…that there are no deer running wild around here.
“But something is definitely up! UnderWoman, something is definitely up!”
He tries to catch a whiff of her clothes and hair.
She pulls away. Pauses for a moment.
UnderWoman has a confession to make….
