. nothing else.Maybe I was, like, at a psych ward or something. Maybe Harborview? But it didn't look like hospital. Nor a jail, not like I'd ever actu...lly been in one. Motel? Didn't seem right, with just one twin bed. There weren't any motel rooms with one twin bed, were there? And why did it rock?I gave up thinking and pulled the covers back, swinging my legs over, and sitting up. My head ached – would I get a hangover from four little sleeping pills? My bladder urged me on, so I tried to. We had had a good wool spinning shed, but half of the spinning slaves had run away. I suspected most would be dead now. This was not a safe place to be an unknown traveller.Cheese, meat, bread: these were our main products. The tiles we made ourselves, but then the locals preferred thatch, so it wasn’t a barterable product. I encouraged the spinners to start work in producing wool yarn and then turn that into clothing; we might make more profit that way and give people choice. Choice always. More

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