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Les Collins

Les Collins Question of Comfort

Question of Comfort

Sinopsis

MY JOB, finished now, had been getting them to Disneyland. The problem
was bringing one in particular—one I had to find. The timing was
uncomfortably close.
I'd taken the last of the yellow pills yesterday, tossing the bottle away with
a sort of indifferent frustration. I won or lost on the validity of my logic—
and whether I'd built a better mousetrap.
The pills had given me 24 hours before the fatal weakness took hold;
nevertheless, I waited as long as I could. That left me less than an hour, now;
strangely, as I walked in the eerie darkness of an early morning, virtually
deserted Disneyland, I felt calm. And yet, my life depended on the one I
sought being inside the Tour buil...