I visited Robert on the way to the Poet Laureate's place from work the other day.
I called him a block and a half away and said I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop in. Then, as I was signaling my left turn into his driveway and saw the look on his face, I couldn't resist.
What, with all your psychic powers you couldn't see this coming?
He said something along the lines of 'I never thought I'd see the day' and we went on about talking the paint off the walls, as we always do.
Thing is, at Corinna's birthday party I showed him 'my other car,' but I don't think he believed me.
He gave me the grand tour, including gargoyles guarding 'peace' and 'happiness' and St. Peter holding court over St. Patrick on the front porch.
Looking at his reading table, with everything even theoretically sacred or mystical from an alligator to Vishnu to the Starship Enterprise, I asked him Where do you find this stuff?
But of course I knew the answer to that. This stuff finds Robert the Psychic just like wind-up plastic lobsters find me.
He introduced me to his cat, Chloé Cliché, (because every psychic needs a black cat).
He has a large collection of crystal skulls, which he says earn their keep by 'looking cool' and 'sitting on a shelf.'
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