The confessor was going to be the next occupant.Nobody came forward.“Drat!” said Junior.“I know,” I said. “I wanted to hate her. The kittens...seemed to like her.”“Everybody but Murray.”About the cats:When JW and the throng started ‘looking’ at the bus, the fleet of kittens and mom fled the shelter and shade and scurried to the dumpster. Tyche could see Murray push the Wesco store doors open. He ran to the bus yowled and thumped the hood a good one. A sixth kitten ran over to safety as JW cranked. Which was more of whichdidn't really matter. This was his private fantasy. Not meant for the public.Not meant for anyone but himself. This fantasy. This beautiful woman he hadbecome for tonight. Taut. Sensual. Erotic. A dangerous thought. Daring. ?Must be seen by some one. Some man.? Make thembelieve he was real. Yes. How? Go to the bar? No, no. Much too dangerous. Someonemight see him. The hotel staff might recognize him and throw him out. Worse,they might not know him and think he was a. More

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