Notes from the Bench

Gault Mills is a town I am inventing for the mysteries I write. The first fact I settled about it is that it starts at the river.

Late August in the town I made up. The river is down to its gravel, the evenings are coming in earlier, and everybody is waiting on the wet half of the year to start.

A mill town does not empty all at once, and the mill itself goes last. This is what stays, and why I built my town to keep it.

A repair café is a hall, some borrowed tables, and a line of toasters waiting to be fixed for nothing. They are the most cheerful rooms I know, and I gave my fictional town one and put my sleuth behind the counter.