Hearing Rufus’s voice was most reassuring and, sitting on the bed with the look of a child whose icecream had just dropped to the floor, Thomas turned to Rufus, “Miss Landlord got my hand all sticky with her cookie.” He said, his words slurred and voice trembling.

His eyes were starting to well up and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was hurt, upset, offended, upset, sad, and upset. He wanted to cry. He lost his cookie. He didn’t even like honey that much. He just wanted infinite cookies. Why was that so hard?

“Help.” He pleaded toward his friend, not really sure what Fortuna was up to at this point.

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