Cricket Creek Bog Nobody likes the records that I play.

Towhee’s eyes narrowed when the stranger called out a question to her. It wasn’t that she couldn’t read his lips, it was his phrasing that struck her as odd. She didn’t answer right away, though she could see no harm in relaying this tidbit of information.

Of course I am, she said, jerking a leg at the copse around her, otherwise I wouldn’t be traipsing on their land. He’s my son-in-law.