Hi everyone!
So, we're all feeling better, here in LnB Towers. COVID is no joke, but since we were all vaxed-up, we got through it just fine.
This week, I've got a tiny piece of a future work for you to chew upon. Nothing big, and no spoilers, but we are talking about a novel to come.
In other news, I've finished writing the next short story, "The Prince of Ramador". It just needs a little tightening up, then it'll be recording time. I can't wait, actually: this one will be a hoot!
So, let's go!
The woman busied herself with her cup of steaming hot tea.
Creamer. One long pour. Stir-stir. Observe. Assess. Another short pour. Stir-stir. Assess.
Sweetener (lumped). One, drop-bloop. Two, drop-bloop. Stir-stir. Assess. Long, loud, sloppy sip. Dab-dab with her napkin. Thin smile for me.
She was playing up that dottering grandma thing, because I somehow wasn't supposed to notice her uniform and all its stripes. This was just the first sieve to go through; the one that filtered out the stupid. If you fell for the act, they knew how to handle you from that point forward. I thought about playing into it, just to waste their time, but they had my profile available, and like a cup of tea, could assess what it meant.
They were methodical; they had a process, and needed to follow it. They'd be annoyed if I messed around with how they conducted their investigation. It had been hoped -- at least, at first -- that this little tête-à-tête with local authorities could’ve been put off for a while. It had been bound to happen at some point, though. This was as good a time as any, and better than most. It was my time to waste, too, after all.
"Are you sure we can't get you anything, Mr. Dosantos? Coffee? Tea? I have an excellent dilligad green in my office. I can ask one of these nice young people to fix you a cup."
I just shook my head, staring at her, waiting.
"No? Well, if you change your mind..."
I stared.
She stared back, that placid, bovine smile sitting in the center of her dark wrinkles, somewhere below black diamond eyes.
Assess. Assess.
The smile went away when she finally made up her mind about me.
"I'm finding you're story...your presence in this situation, rather hard to stomach, Mr. Dosantos." She said it lowly and with a certain tightness, the dottering old lady having finally retired for the night. "Frankly, it's souring my mood. I tend to take that out on the people nearest to me. A character flaw."
I made a show of looking around the otherwise empty interview room.
"I guess we should get started, then," I conceded.
And that's it for this week. Talk to you soon!
Take care,
-David