Melissa doesn't seem like she'll be returning to the table, and I am suddenly at a loss about what to do next. It is as though she was the one writing the script, and now she has snatched it away from me. I am going to have to improvise. I suppose I could go up to my room and put on a pair of socks and shoes, or at least sandals. No one appears to have noticed that I have been barefoot since I came downstairs this morning. And for some reason, my feet are feeling a bit icky, as though I have just stepped in dogshit, but upon examination, they appear perfectly clean, no odour, I just am not used to going barefoot, so civilized we are here. Carl appears in the doorway.
"Wanna hang out?" he says.
"What do you have in mind?"
"I thought you might want to do some more work with me on the trail. We have almost two hours till coffee break."
"I don't see why not. Let me go and put on some shoes first."
"Have you been barefoot all this time?"
"Something different, I suppose, but yeah, I've been barefoot all this time."
There is piano music coming from the other reception room and it must be Carol practicing. This sounds particularly beautiful. Haunting, and I have to go in for a listen. Carl comes with me to watch her play...
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