He felt something tugging at his memory; a picture from a book or something laughed over in one of his classes. He shifted his gaze to the swollen moon but still, the image would not come. The weight of minutes settled onto him even though the girl sat patiently waiting for him to speak. Her quiet had the texture of hunting patience and Joey gave into the urge to fill it with words just to shake off the stalked feeling growing between his shoulder blades.

     “Can you describe where you live?” he asked.

     “Yes,” she answered and then, “Are you here because of a problem you believe caused by supernatural powers?”

     “Wait! You didn’t answer my questions,” Joey said.

     “A...

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