Chapter 17

Felicia spent the Last week over-packing everything she swears on her bedazzled Crocs that I needed, things like a mountain of clothes, enough toiletries for a small village, books, lots of books, big books, small books, the same books in soft and hard cover, books in languages I could not speak nor understand, trinkets, doodads, a couple of dozen dinglehoppers, I swear it's like she wakes up in the morning, grabs the first thing she touches and gets an epiphany about how having it would increase my chance of survival