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  • Dory felt like a wet blanket. She’d overdosed on colours in the shawl and cape shop, and had to lie down in the back room. As she waited for the room to stop spinning, sprawled on a rather smelly old sofa that seemed more like a glukenitch bed than a sofa, she listened to various snatches of ... · ID #174 (continued)
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Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories

› Forums › Yurara Fameliki’s Stories › The Eights’ Shift, Stories › Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories

November 9, 2009 at 4:30 pm #2346
TracyTracy
Participant
    Tattler Manor

    “The fact of the matter, Finnley,” Liz whispered confidentially to her dear freind, “ is that I feel scared to say something discontinous now, which results in me saying nothing (or rather, not all that much).”

    “Leave it with me, Ann dear” replied the resourceful Finnley. “I’ll have a word with God about nonsense.”

    “Liz” corrected Liz.

    “Oh dear. I think you’ve been infected with the continuity virus.” Finnley looked worried.

    Daily Random Quote

    • Dory felt like a wet blanket. She’d overdosed on colours in the shawl and cape shop, and had to lie down in the back room. As she waited for the room to stop spinning, sprawled on a rather smelly old sofa that seemed more like a glukenitch bed than a sofa, she listened to various snatches of ... · ID #174 (continued)
      (next in 00h 10min…)

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