Mandy Thompson regretted being late. It was the first day of the bibliographic conference in Philly and, just before its early morning start, she was “caught short”–the trolley into town didn’t turn up (something to do with power outages) and the heel of her shoe snapped, consequently she had to “visit” the public lavatories.
So that particular morning she was in an infuriated rush. Of course normally she would not have dreamt of using a public john, but needs must; there was no time even to position a circle of paper upon the wooden ring.
She put the tome aside and swept the scrolls off Mr. Shan’s lacquered table, with its exquisite jade inkwell, and stared out through the wood and paper window at downtown Shanghai. Unconsciously she ran a hand down the back of one thigh which, ever since that john in Philly, had been blistered.
Turn 1 Action Phase, Shanghai
Mandy opened the tome with odd, Egyptian-like hieroglyphs which had been scraped in purple ink between the printed Chinese characters, if only she could decipher these bizarre inscriptions? She sighed, her brow wrinkled, and concluded that more research was needed.