They work hard...
...well, some do anyway.
It started off innocently enough.
Musical hotbeds. Wales, choirs. New Orleans, jazz. If your three best
mates start a band, you're more likely to pick up some drumsticks or
a bass guitar and pitch in. Then there's the BLISS point of view
(from now on the BLISS POV):
BLISS: It's handed down, too. Look at
the Poles...
I looked at me.
BLISS: ...they're studious, serious.
They like classical music. They're hard working...
Here's the payoff:
She then flicked a thumb at me, one
of those dismissive thumbs, a casual thumb, but clearly indicating
me.
BLISS: Well. Not all of them. Most of
them though.
So. That'll be me then. Serious and
studious, likes classical music but workshy. I suppose I'll have to
settle for that.
It took a while to regain composure and
stop the laughter tears and giggling fits. It was the thumb flick
thing that set me off. Definitely the thumb thing.
They like cabbage...
...didn't stop there. We like cabbage.
Apparently. Cabbage, and pickled herrings. Pickled anything,
apparently.
DLL: We're out of gherkins.
ME: OK. I'll pick some up.
BLISS: See. Part Polish. Pickled
gherkins.
Woods under water
The dog walk is 50% under water. The
other 50% is knee deep in mud. The dogs don't seem to mind.
White dog is mud-phillic.
As are my boots, trousers, hands,
sweatshirt, and jacket.
Continuum
Corporate dominated future. Rebels use
a time warp device to return to 2012, but take a policewoman with
them by accident. The nerd that makes things worse in the future
accidentally taps into her comms system. Some want to get back to
their own time. Others don't. Complicated. Fast-moving.
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