There were still clothes lying around the room, but something was off.Hanging on the closet door was something strange. He squinted harder."Is that a ...ra?" he thought. Looking around the room he could start tomake out different clothing. Shirts and jeans and shorts. But theyweren't his shorts and jeans and shorts. There was also dresses, andskirts. Women's shoes everywhere. "Wait, shit, did I actually hook uplast night?" he thought.Reaching over to his desk to try to grab his phone he felt. Pails under each bed were carried and emptied at morning call.Winter life at the Wolf Creek homestead seemed very closed in for Graydon, sheltered, his world centered around the warm house and the sheltering barn. He swaddled himself in boots, sweater, a heavy coat, hat and gloves, before coping with the frozen spaces outside. Work centered on feed, firewood, chopping ice, carrying water, and shoveling snow. Trips to town were infrequent, and were a challenge. The Blue Goose was reluctant to. More

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