The exercise:
Write about: a trade.
Managed to get in to the office for part of the day today but had to leave early to pick Max up from school, as Kat was stuck at home with Miles.
That won't be a problem tomorrow... seeing as we're pretty sure Max will also be too sick to go to school.
2 comments:
Well, I would hope that your prognosis for the children be wrong but it sounds like you're pretty certain of it. I hope that recovery for everyone is quick now! And that your days (for both you and Kat) aren't too badly disrupted by it all.
A trade
The headquarters of the Council of Nastiness had been relocated, decades ago, to the inside of a Sphere of Annihilation by Dr. Septopus so when you looked out of the windows now all you saw was an unending greyness; the strange, hard-to-fathom sight of air molecules being destroyed as they touched the edge of something that destroyed anything that touched it. No light could bounce off it for the human eye to use to see it -- even photons were destroyed -- but the odd quantum mechanical effects of the destruction on the particles nearby created radiative effects that produced a fuzzy greyness that drew they eye and wouldn't let it go.
Isobella Bonfontaine pulled herself away from the window and the mesmerizing sight and decided to go and see what the saturnine man employing her was up to. She suspected that he had finished his interviews for the day, but he was as odd as the Sphere of Annihilation in her opinion. She wandered through the halls of the Council of Nastiness admiring the architecture and wondering where the money had come from to build such a palatial place. Considering it was technically an administrative building it seemed to have no end of workshops, an industrial sized kitchen, an aquarium ("for Dr Septopus; that was his living area" the saturnine man had said) and other odd rooms that needed neither secretary nor archiving assistant.
"We could trade you for Sylvestra, maybe," said the saturnine man somewhere ahead of her, and Isabella frowned. She was fairly certain that she and he were the only two people in here. She slowed a little and shifted her weight so that, cat-like, she became nearly silent, and glided forward.
The man was sitting at a desk in a room she'd not seen before with a holographic projection in front of him. He appeared to be talking to a half-dead cat, or possibly a furry with a badly torn fur-suit and a case of gangrene.
"Trade me?" the voice from the holophone was fuzzy and tinged with static. "I think you'd be lucky to be able to recycle me. The only reason I'm not dead is because of Chip Inside."
"Chip's a wandering megaflop whirler," said the saturnine man. Isabella puzzled over this a moment and decided he meant "wonderful miracle worker". "I have no idea how he comes up with so many interventions."
"I'm over ninety," said the holophone. "Cats have nine lives, but each of them averages less than ten years. I should be dead. I want to be dead!"
"Come and work here, Kitty," said the man. "Like I said, maybe I can trade you for Sylvestra. She's bound to be jealous."
"Jealous enough to kill me at last?"
Greg - it was pretty much the worst, but I appreciate your well wishes and optimism :)
Continuing to enjoy this crossover, and happy to see things starting to fall into place, more or less.
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