I reversed out of the parking lot and drove down into the town square, past Howell Harris and the lorry still stuck fast on the bridge. Toccata stared at me the whole time, then reached out a hand and tweaked my bony forearm.
'You're very skinny,' she said. 'Did you do any dreaming on your four-week sojourn to the dark side?'
'No, ma'am.'
'Good,' she said. 'The only thing I loathe more than winsomniacs is dreamers. Feet on the ground, head out of the clouds. Agree?'
'Yes, ma'am.'
'I don't like subordinates always agreeing.' she said. 'Sycophants have no place in my department. You're to speak your mind when the opportunity calls for it.'
'How will I know when that is?'
'I shall inform you. Park over there.'
- Jasper Fforde,
Early Riser, pp.216-217
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