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When the green leaves of Connecticut turn to gold, its time to put on your feathered Alpine hat and head to Oktoberfest.
Tiny and far as Reba was, she somehow managed to see Carlo and me, and she gave us a wave. Thing is, as long as you’re physically near a qwet teeper, you’ll get these little brief touches of mind merge with them, no matter what. Skungy, Carlo and I looked at each other, our six eyes glittering with glee. He was about eight years younger than me, and several notches wilder than my crowd had ever been. But when he’d wanted to hang his latest paintings in my gallery I’d turned him down. She’d get flushed and shiny when she was feeling lively, which was often.