The bus ride to New York was pleasantly uneventful. I had way overestimated how much time it would take to get to the bus terminal, so even after stopping at the Corner Bakery in Union Station for breakfast we got on a bus leaving 90 minutes earlier than the one I’d scheduled for. A slept pretty much the whole way, and I read Octavia Butler’s Adulthood Rites for a long time and then took a nap myself.

When we got here, we had to contend with the fact that C’s cat had died last night. She was very old, and he’d called us last night to let us know that she was dying. It made me sad because I had known her pretty well, and she was a sweet cat even if she was a pest sometimes (what cat isn’t?). C was planning to throw her away, but I asked him to save her until we got there so I could pay my last respects. When I finally did see her, I just petted her a little bit and didn’t look too closely; rigor mortis had already set in. C enlisted my help in putting her into a bag and included her favorite toy with her; A put in a gold dollar so she could pay the ferryman.