"Better get used to the stares!" I said.
Because of my emphasis, I knew Myx would catch on. Whether he would play along is always a day-to-day thing.
"Do you expect me to rail against this?"
Good--looked like he was jousting. The bad part is, you could never outdo Myx in any word game because of his lightning-quick mind and immediate recall ability of a ka-gillion words, definitions, pictures, etc. I found it was best to engage him and then move on quickly.
"How do you think it will feel when you do get stared at once you're published and you're out in the stores and in people's homes?"
"Less embarrassing than the looks I get when you set me down in yet another God-awful place where I don't belong and then leave me alone and defenseless while you back away and take your time to fish out that credit card-sized camera and fiddle with it like it was the first time you ever saw it and finally fire it up and pretend to know how to aim it and thank goodness press the damned shutter button."
Myx was out of breath from the exertion of that last tirade-elongated sentence. By the time he finished, I had captured this glorious photo.
"At least it's warm in here!" I tried to end on a positive note.
"Yeah," Myx replied, "better than being out on the steppes."
Miracle Myx
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