He’s not Mr Right, but at least they can talk. I’ve always found fish fascinating, he says. She hasn’t. And, hours later, she still doesn’t. The agency tells her she needs to make more effort if she’s serious about finding a partner. Her mouth opens and closes. She’s drowning.
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Girls found Ezequiel dull. Didn’t answer his calls. Kept a distance from him at work. Made small talk smaller over morning breaks, if Ezequiel was there. He thought he caught them rolling their eyes, shaking their heads, yawning behind their hands. Then Maria kissed him. Suddenly he was more interesting.
I like this one, Sarah. Reminded me to reread Haroun and the Sea of Stories because I was always amused by the literality of the 'plentimaw' fish (not sure if that's how Rushdie spelled it). Now, to write my own and get fish out of my head...
The Annual Lifetime Achievement Awards for the Association of Anaesthetists went off well last night. Until the guest of honour lost the power of speech. Upon opening, there was claret all over the place and more fluids were pushed through. He is now reported to be in recovery, regaining consciousness.
Douglas, that is so true. But of course I'm now wondering if Ezequiel paid Maria to kiss him? The story continues, I feel...
Hah, Kathyrn, I love your head full of fish! And an annual dinner of Anaesthetists - I love it. They probably have to pass a spelling test first (I had to cut and paste it for this comment!)
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