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January 2019 #589

Darlin’. Coffee’s on the stove.

Me: I have some thank you. How was your weekend?

Pleasant enough.

Me: Did you work on your designs?

I did (coughing) and others besides.

Me: What else did you work on?

An opera set.

Me: As in, matching dress jewels one might wear on a night at
the opera?

(coughing) Yes. It is hard to tell if it would be
comfortable to wear, but it would be very eye-catching.

Me: What’s it look like?

Similar to the stormlands ring.

Me: Oh! Nice.

And your weekend? (coughing)

Me: Quiet. Kal was worn out from work so we didn’t get up to

Do you mind?

Me: No, but I rather wish I’d done something – anything.

(sardonic, lighting a cigarette) We
men are all purveyors of shocking habits.

Me: Will you work on designs today or stretch your legs?

I shall ride and hope not to get frozen to Tennyson’s

Me: Give me TB.

No. … I do not care for that look of calculation.

Me: Nor should you. I just realized that technically, I could
take it – if I didn’t mind you hating me afterwards.

I would not hate you, but I would be supremely disappointed.

Me: Which might even be worse. Is there anything you wish you
could take back – something you said or did?

A great many things I expect. (coughing) I have tried to be
a deliberate and decisive man, but one cannot always foresee the consequences
of one’s actions. I should have shot JT when I had the chance. Then again, I
would have been skinned five dollars lighter. Who’s to say which would be

Me: What did you need the five dollars for?

(sarcastic) To have my suit pressed.
(coughing) I wish that were the answer. It was for whiskey. Or laudanum. By then I
drank both.

Source: Tales of Necromancy

by cnkguy
January 2019 #589

Posted in Tales of Necromancy and tagged by with no comments yet.

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