Chaptrs

One more job.

‘Mr. Trevor, 6.4T,’ Grayce greeted him electronically by pinging his profile, favorably reviewing his appearance for maximum validation before shuffling over the rocks to his back porch. Admiring his modest blue wicker furniture and faded rose-print pillows, she sent, ‘What's the problem, sir?’

He grunted while his reply vibrated, ‘You need to fix the problem the first time.’

Had she slept more soundly, more empathy could’ve been employed. In truth, there were no reasons to be angry with the man. His brain chemistry was such that he knew no other way to be.

Mr. Trevor pointed to the Taurus voltage panel, ‘You know where…’