Workety work. Through the murk.

[kiya]

I say "Jaci has just revealed to me that she can talk to dogs."
erispope says "Anyone can talk to dogs. I do it all the time. Do the dogs talk back?"
I say ". . . that is, word for word, what keshwyn said to me."
erispope dies!
I say "The Felding Hivemind strikes."
erispope chokes on soda. But really, do they talk back?
I say "Well, one asked her why they were there, another asked her why her mate wasn't moving, a third asked her if he was going to recover, and then they got down to discussing how best to flush quarry out of hiding."
erispope's poor dog tries to talk to her a great deal, generally at the top of his lungs. He must be English, since he's convinced volume will make up for lack of linguistic ability.

583 words on section 91, 1189 total, and that makes it done.
504 on section 91, which is also done.

It's good to work again; a pity it doesn't clear the muh out of my head. Yes, brooksmoses, I'm taking my bloody vitamins.

Head hurty. And so tired. Someone signed me up for the telemarketer sweepstakes, every hour on the half hour, all through my central sleep period. So I'm going to bed early. 1087 words is plenty respectable.

Comments

[larksdream]

*hugs*