At Magious's house, the bastard has to keep his windows open, his door open, and the ceiling fan on high because it gets (oh!) so stuffy in his room.
Apparently Trisa's also possessed of the same cold-bloodedness. In her computer room, the windows had to be open, the ceiling fan on high.
I dared not to say anything because her dad also thought it was stuffy in there, so I knew I was most likely the crazy pony present.
Maybe I should wear my fuzzy black bathrobe everywhere I go? Maybe . . .
I've been so unhungry lately. I wasn't able to finish the oatmeal I made this morning nor the cheese tamales I had last night. True, I'd had a couple slices of pizza at Trisa's, but that was at about lunch time for me . . . so hmm . . .
Place image strangely came to me just now;
Trisa worked at a school a little ways to the north very briefly, and I either drove her there or picked her up a couple times, I don't remember which. But I hung out in the nearby shopping area a bit on those occasions . . . I haven't been there in ages. I've just had a vision of the place . . . Should I go back? I have to.