Chapter 49: All the Little Details

Declan waited. Waited, and contemplated, hoping to everything he knew that the answer might fall out of the sky. Far from the dark security of his meditation room, he sat at a table covered with a white cloth, covered with a different sort of gloom.

“And these are Indian Porcelain,” the obscenely posh salesman said, laying another off-white plate on the tablecloth.

“I see,” Declan said, not seeing any difference at all.

Declan picked up the plate for a closer look, not even feeling a difference in the weight between the Indian Porcelain and every other plate that had been laid on the elegantly dressed table that afternoon.

“Very nice,” Polly agreed, similarly perplexed as to what the difference was meant to be.

“Of course, these will be a bit more expensive,” the salesman said.

“Of course,” Declan said, wanting to be agreeable.

“I’ll leave you to decide,” the salesman said, wafting away in a distinctly effette manner that made it look like he was skating.