The Origin of the Emerald Avenger, Part One
A burning bacon odor awoke Naomi Johnson. She ran downstairs to the kit-chen. Her jaw fell open—Dave, at the stove? “What are you doing?” He turned to face her with a boyish grin. “Making breakfast.” “Thanks, but it smells likes it’s burning.” “Oops, sorry.” He turned off the bur-ner. “How about we all go out…
