”Listen. That was the worst thing I ever had to do. Bury him in a scrap heap. Oil change for my best friend. At the store, they were out of the usual, 10 W 30. And the old lady promised that he would be fine with synthetic oil. I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about, I told myself. I didn’t know that he was allergic to anything else. I swear on my life.”
”She’s a metallurgist? ”
”I think so. An alchemist is the same thing, right? “
”No, not if that’s her riding that broom and cackling, ” said Tom, pointing.