>>6127768…a room that smelled of paint. Faint voices, apparently in an argument, came from behind the locked door.
“You know,” said one, “that sounds like us in there…”
They tried the door but, naturally, it wouldn’t open. The voices stopped when the doorknob rattled.
One picked up the umbrella. “It may rain where we’re going.”
I signaled my approval and, after a short rest, we came to…