“Not a good idea,” I said. “For many reasons. What we need is a boat.”
Pow. A physical force may have clubbed me in my chest. The inside of the cab flashed neon bright. Or maybe that was a neuron firing, or I was having an aneurysm. I blinked hard to clear the after-glow. Could an idea really hurt that much? Must be why I try not to think too much.
Michael was grinning at me. “From the mouth of fools.”