Beep.
Not. Now. There's no beeps here. I'm in the library.
The librarian at the front desk is sipping tea, right in full view, and with not one speck of shame. Little book whore.
This place is infested.
Yes, more rotten than an apple where colonial maggots have hollowed out the core, declared Little Amsterdam, and participate in endless orgies of wild unprotected sex. As filthy as unwashed bed sheets used by a thousand different dysentery sufferers.
Dirty place this.
Feeling dizzy.
The lights shine bright. Have they turned them up on purpose? I think they have. They clearly don't want me to check my mail.
So they made me smash my computer. All this time, I was blaming myself. Yes, Boris, I know. The lady is coming, and she's got a cup of lie in her hand. I won't drink the lie, Boris. Don't worry about that. She's trying to talk to me.
Do. Not. Communicate. With. me.
Boris? Boris? Why are you speaking Basque, Boris? This isn't the time to change our communication style. Little is known of its origins, Boris. It isn't like other European languages.
Destroy the cup of lie, then learn Basque. Obviously, the only way out of this predicament....
YOU ARE READING
Beep.
Science FictionHave you heard about the dangers of Tea? One day I will be famous. I never wanted to be a value meal.
