Paul likes nothing better than foot rubs and nice quiet evening sitting in front of the old black and white. He dearly loves Miranda and would never do anything to harm her. In fact, if he were younger, he’s certain he’d be able to protect her – as it should be. But, alas, he’s not. Sometimes Paul has strange dreams. They involve seafood. Lots of seafood. It’s been a long time since Paul had a good fish dinner. Most of the fish are gone. And it’s too far to the nearest stream or river that might hold some. He loves Miranda. She reminds him a lot of his daughter. But she’s dead now. Everyone dies sooner or later. Red spots and black tongues are certainly no way to go.