There was a porchlight burning, and he walked resolutely up the driveway to the porch. The doorbell was just within reach.
The woman who answered the door didn’t seem surprised to see him standing there, three feet of fur and bug-eyes and claws. “We were wondering if you’d show up; not that many houses ‘round here. You were on the news, you know: ‘Alien Tourist’.”
“Fascinating. What did they say?”
“That you might ring somebody’s doorbell and offer to work off dinner. You hungry?”
“Famished.”
“We don’t need any work done, though…”
“I tell a good story—”
“Come on in.”
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