Her mouth was slightly open - she could feel that - and waves of horripilation fled across her skin. She felt that he was frowning at her, but he hadn’t moved yet. Still, how else was it possible to do anything in a short space of time? The trouble was, that you couldn’t becalm your mind completely because if you weren’t careful, you’d forget to turn off the stove.
Perhaps, like her, laboratory rats took a pride in solving the puzzles scientists set them. She kept her thoughts running - first this, then that, and at the same time such-and-such, and don’t forget the pinch of thyme - and her hands moving. She heard the front door closing, and Fred’s voice.įrom then on, things went quickly and she had to turn off the music to guard against any outside distraction. As she ran back into the kitchen, snatching up the apron and tying it in back, a voice from the radio was saying: Police again advise residents in the area to be on the lookout for this highly dangerous animal.ĭorothy shook out and refolded her kitchen scarf to go over her head and keep her hair from picking up the garlic and onion smells. She turned on the radio automatically between moves from stove to icebox to sink, and then sprinted to the bedroom to change her clothes and put some make-up on. It was later than she had thought and she started mixing the sauce before anything else. Caliban and Binstead’s Safari as well as numerous novellas and short stories. Rachel Ingalls is an American-born author who has lived in the UK since 1965. While Dorothy is doing chores and waiting for her husband to come home from work, she hears a strange radio announcement about a monster who has just escaped from the Institute for Oceanographic Research. The following is from Rachel Ingalls’ novel, Mrs.
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