The door recognizes me, and lets me in. I kick off boots, chuck my jacket across the back of any chair there. Unscrew the ring from my finger. It lands in the candy dish with a crystalline tinka-link! Wink twice, windows dim, blocking out hideous dayside. I steadily shed layers in a trail, weaving toward the bath. Shower. Hot, I croak, and it comes on, steaming. I step in and blast just years of hard road from my skin. Expose, like, strata? Down to the wibbly cobbles. And put away wet, I think. Wrapping my hair in a towel, I