Have shared depressing short story with [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan (for technical and military-language proofing), [livejournal.com profile] ibnfirnas, [livejournal.com profile] annwyd, and [livejournal.com profile] oneironaut.

    I say "Do you think someone might buy it?"
    Eastman ([livejournal.com profile] annwyd) says "They might."
    Tesla ([livejournal.com profile] oneironaut) says "I would. It's good."
    Eastman says "Yeah, uh, since I didn't say so specifically, it *is* good."
    Eastman says "And Tesla, read my frothage!"
    Tesla says "I mean ... it's one thirty in the morning and I spent all day walking around and my eyeballs are on fire, and it still sucked me in."
    Tesla says "That's very frothy."
    I say "Mmmm, frothy flaming eyeballs."
    Tesla says "It sounds like a novelty drink."
    Tesla says "A cappuchino with alcohol and capsaicin?"
    I say "Better than the alcoholic milkshake with tabasco idea which was the best my fried brains could come up with."
    Whitney, all about the milkshakes lately.
    I say "But I want one with good vanilla, damnit."
    Tesla grins.


It was really depressing vanilla. I feel a need to reiterate this. Flat and bland and not terribly vanilla.

Word counts:

The short story is still 1208 words. Tentatively titled "Reunion" at this point, for maximum ouch factor.

Section 115 (picking up work after the hiatus of holiday at last): 701 words.

Have helped [livejournal.com profile] annwyd plot and scheme for a userpic, for I am a wicked temptress.
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