10/27/20 Snippet, PATCHWORK GOD.

We’re going to need to get some action happening soon. Ach, well, it’s a draft and I’m going to be writing the new Tom Vargas next month anyway.

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As it happened, we didn’t need to push the button for every floor; somebody was getting on or off at almost each one anyway. The one time nobody did, Pat held the elevator door open while Jack and I had a good sniff, then we got back on. The people in the box with us didn’t say anything.

Humans don’t, generally. We’ve — and I include the Other Side in that ‘we’ve’ — noticed a long time ago that we just don’t stay in human heads for long. It’s not exactly amnesia; punch a human, and I guarantee she’ll remember that you did. But once we’re out of sight of them we’re also very much out of mind. Their memories of us rapidly drain of urgency. This gets really handy when we have to clean up after a Blasphemous Tome, let me tell you — but good luck trying to get one to fix your car unless you’re standing right over her. Which I guess means it all balances out in the end.