The children often wondered what treasures lay beneath the large mound of cement placed sloppily in the middle of the commons. Words set into the mound “Do Not Open ‘til Christmas 3001”.
Old Anton, the park’s custodian, smiled past his snowy beard; “marvelous things from the past, for this was once a billionaire’s bunker” he would tell them.
He did not tell the children about the mouldering bones inside, sealed in by an angry populace, almost a century before.
#MicroFic #TootFic
#Microfic
Air to Ground Intercepts - VH-WZJA/PER 20xx/11/21
08:11 DEP KTA 115PAX ETA 10:05
09:10 ATC REPORTS NO OTHER TRAFFIC THIS FL/HEAD. CAN SEE OT. PER CONFIRM.
09:30 PER PLS CONFIRM NO OTHER TRAFFIC
09:45 PER ON APPROACH RNWY 06 ETA 10:00 REQ TUG/AUX PWR
09:55 ATC REQ GO AROUND AND HOLD
10:00 PER CONFIRM CAUSE
10:02 PER RECONFIRM CAUSE
10:15 REQ REDIRECT
10:20 REQ REDIRECT
10:30 PER ATC NO CONTACT NO BECON
10:32 PER PLS RESP
10:45 DCLR FUEL EMERGENCY NO ATC RESP.
10:47: PER PLS RESP
10:50: ON APPROACH RNWY 06
10:51: PER ON GROUND NO DAMAGE NO CASUALTIES
10:52 CAN ANYONE PLS RESPOND?
10:53 IS THAT A FLYING SAUCER?
No further messages.
#IAmWriting #tootfic #acars #microfic #microfiction #SF #SFF
Inspired by the good folks @acarsdrama .
The nine biomechanical women sat around a table in a cafe, with various drinks in front of them.
Wisteria took a sip of her long mac, "For all that he is a real bit of work, Prof Russim did do good work on us. I mean he could have left out things like a digestive tract, taste buds, and other fun things."
Annette nodded, "All the same, he does need to be stopped. Jen has stopped him from killing anyone - yet, but it really is only a matter of time."
Lucy, the newest member of the group, softly spoke. "That is why I wanted us to talk outside of the house. I'm worried about Jennifer."
Annette tipped her head a little "Worried about her? She's pretty tough."
"Yes, but let's face it, she is not the brightest lamp in the display," at the looks the others gave her Lucy continued "She's not stupid, but she does miss a lot of things that maybe she shouldn't. For example, whenever the Prof makes one of us, there is a clear pattern, but she never spots it."
The others paused. Veronica looked thoughtful, and mused "You know, she's right. Jen should have spotted the pattern by now. I mean, we knew Lucy was on the way. That's why Annette was waiting for her."
The others nodded in agreement.
Siobhan asked worriedly "Do you think something's been done to her?"
"No...", Lucy stretched it out a little, "I don't think so. I just think she's not much of a detective."
Betty looked around "So what do we do?"
Sarah looked grim "What Wissy should have done before he made the rest of us. We stop him. Properly."
They all looked at each other. "I'm still glad I waited," Wisteria said "because I got all of you. But you are right. We need to do something about him."
Angelina spoke up "Maybe we can get Alison to lend a hand." Alison was a lava elemental that had started visiting. Jennifer's super power of flame control protected her from Alison's body of molten rock.
Aurora shook her head "No, Alison, for all her power is a civilian."
Harriet, who had been quiet until now, put her hands on the table "Right then. We know how to find him. Finish your drinks, and let's get him."
When Jennifer got home from her day job, the house was unusually empty, but there was a note on the kitchen table: "Running errands. Back later." Scratching her head, "Errands?", she asked of the empty house.
#SF #SFF #microfiction #tootfic #microfic #Superhero #TheFlameSuper #IAmWriting
The Flame, or rather Jennifer as she was not in costume, considered her bedroom. It was getting crowded again. She was either going to have to at least get a new bed, if not actually get a whole new bedroom built.
Why Professor Russim insisted on making his artificial assassins fully self aware and anatomically correct, she had no idea. She was not going to complain though. First it allowed the assassins to break free of his commands, and secondly, well, that was why she needed a bigger bed.
Jennifer crawled into the pile of bodies and drifted off to sleep.
Three hours later, about an hour before sunrise, the bed shook violently. Jennifer and the other occupants awoke. A quick check confirmed that it had not been anyone having a good time, and Wisteria, one of the first, got up to look outside.
"Jen? We don't normally have a volcanic vent do we?"
"You know we don't Wissy."
"I think we do now."
"Is it the Prof?"
"I don't think so. There aren't any mechanicals."
Jennifer got up and looked out the window. Then she turned and quickly put on her costume from where she left it on the floor earlier that morning. Then she opened the door and went to investigate.
Everyone else followed a few moments later.
They all stood around the new vent that had opened in the garden at the back of the mansion. The Flame lit up, and everyone else formed skins of ice. Then she looked down into the vent, just in time to see a figure rising up from the lava deep below. "Stand back everyone!"
The nine artificial women took one small step back.
Then the figure reached the surface. It looked like a woman made of lava, dressed in a glass-like robe. She looked around and then darkened, going from a bright yellow down to a dull red. Blue fire came from her nose as she exhaled.
"Who are you?" The Flame asked sharply.
The lava woman cocked her head, studying the superhero in front of her, then she spoke, her voice surprisingly ordinary, "I'm Alison. I hope we can be friends."
Annette, formerly 'Unit Eight' started to giggle. "At least she's not from the Prof or seeing if she can beat you, Jen!"
The Flame rubbed the bridge of her nose. She had not had enough sleep for this.
#SFF #SF #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #superhero #IAmWriting #Fantasy #TheFlameSuper
Links to: https://aus.social/@rdm/115094089798053165
and
https://aus.social/@rdm/115718154166026175
Years ago, Alison had thrown herself into the volcano, firm in her belief in the heat of the fires of the Earth. Her body had flashed into carbon in seconds, and burned away moments later.
But something had remained, and that became one wth the heart of the mountain.
Now, she rose from the magma, draped in robes of obsidian. From the molten rock she drew forth a short baton, which solidified into granite, the top blazing with such heat that it set the air itself alight.
Next she called out to the heat and smoke, and summoned a creature of the fires. "Go now - fly far from this place, and search. Find others whose souls burn. Mark where they are found in your mind, and return to me. Do not be seen, and do not spread my blessing," she instructed it.
At the last, creature looked up at her in confusion and disappointment. Alison looked down at it firmly, "No, set no fires in your passage. I am the fire that warms, not the fire that destroys. Unless I need to. Then I consume all. "
It bowed its head and nodded. "Now go, find me my people, so that I can call them to me."
The servant's leathery wings lifted it into the air, and it vanished like smoke.
Alison looked around the chamber, and walked out, leaving footprints of molten rock. Looking down, she paused. Then she faded from a bright orange to a dull red, and she started walking again.
Emerging from the lava tube, she sat down in the open air, thrust her baton into the rock, and breathed deeply. The insides of her nostrils shone yellow as the air rushed in, and jets of blue emerged as she exhaled.
As she was no other person could touch her. Even being near her would be dangerous.
She was alone. The one flaw in her rebirth. This was not something she had expected. The longing for connection.
She would have to find someone that she could remake, as she had remade herself. Someone who wanted to be remade. For her.
Below, she could see the ocean. A thought crossed her mind - were there people like her, but of the sea? Or of the air? Maybe even of the earth itself?
For a time, she casually poured flames from one hand to another. Then, as night fell, she lay back on the rock, and allowed it to soften underneath her, becoming a bed. She looked up at the stars, wondering how long it would be before her creation returned to her.
For now, she was all alone with her thoughts. And the stars.
#SF #SFF #Fantasy #microfic #microfiction #tootfic #IAmWriting #TheFlameSuper
Charlie and I are cuddling on the couch, taking in an old Toho Kaiju movie.This is the third one in a row. I grew up on these, and Charlie has a soft spot for Mothra (who wouldn't?), so we're doing a Mothra Marathon. We've got some friends around - Candice, her daughter Anthea, and Anthea's girlfriend, Nicola. And let's be honest, we might as well have a couple of robots with us - we are riffing away like old pros.
It is nearly midnight, and the Twins are just starting their song to call Mothra, when there's a tapping at the door. Now I want you to understand that, while Charlie has many tomes of ancient lore, she is in no way weak, weary, nor do we have a bust of Pallas anywhere in the house. Just to be clear on this. But a raven calling would not be out of the question.
We do a quick rock-paper-scissors, which I lose, so I get up to answer the door. To my amazement, there is not a raven, but a boy. A young teenager. He looks well fed, there are no obvious injuries, and he seems anxious rather than scared.
"Hi?" I open.
"Um... Does, er, Charlie live here?" he asks.
"Yes, are you in some trouble?"
"Uh, no. It is just that, well, my aunty said that I needed someone to teach me, and that Charlie was the best person in town. She and my folks had a big fight about it. Oh, I'm Gavin. Gavin Jones."
"You'd better come in then. Charlie? Hit pause, please."
Gavin was clearly expecting someone else, because he looks around at everyone, and back at me.
"Nope, I'm Toby. Charlie is my wife," I point to her, "This is Gavin Jones. His aunty wants you to teach him."
Charlie looks at him, and I can tell that she's not just using her eyes. She blinks slowly, and lets out deep breath. "I see. I am Charlotte Hampstead. I think you had best just call me Ms Hampstead," Charlie says with her stern voice.
The kid is a bit startled by this, gulps, and shakily replies "Yes Ms Hampstead."
"Now, do your parents know you're here?"
"No Ms Hampstead. They had a fight with Aunty Margaret about me learning from you."
"Where do you live?"
"Just two streets over, number 12 on Short."
"Right then. You are going straight home before someone notices you're missing. Are your parents going to be home tomorrow?"
He's staring now. "Uh, yeah, I guess?"
"Right. I will call in around 2pm. I'll tell them your aunt sent me."
"Okay?" he says as a question, more than acknowledgement. Charlie looks at him. "I mean, yes, Ms Hampstead!" he corrects.
Charlie smiles, "Take care to go straight home, now. Toby will see you out."
I come back having seen the kid off. "So you're going to teach him?"
"I have to. He's like an over-full gas cylinder right now."
"And his folks?"
"I'll explain, in detail, what will happen if he's not taught. They'll agree. Now get back over here. I want to hear The Twins."
That's when Nicola asks "Do you have a working with children permit?"
Charlie swears.
#SF #SFF #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #CharlieAndToby #IAmWriting
Carol watched helplessly as Bertrand stepped on the banana skin as he approached her grandfather.
As Bertrand hit the ground, the old man spoke "Really, Carol? This is your suitor? Someone who cannot even spot the most obvious trap. Or at least learned to pratfall."
Bertrand painfully stood up.
"But Grandfather! He's RSC! Not some base comedy troupe!"
"Even more reason! The Bard places a lot of weight on gross humour."
Bertrand could take it no more and cried "Thou villainous fat-kidneyed haggard! I shall marry your grand-daughter!"
The old man stared at him "Heh. Maybe there is some hope for him after all."
Winter Night:
They huddled around the fire as they ate.
“What can you tell us about witches?” Eric asked, abruptly.
“Not much,” Fal replied. “They’re outlawed by the High Tower Edicts. Their magic taints them, somehow.”
“What do you mean?”
“Warts, croneism, bad-“
“Croneism?” Leira ejaculated.
“Becoming crones,” Fal answered, shrugging. “Hagism, if you prefer.”
“He has such a delicate way with words,” Alfonsa commented.
“But your magic doesn’t taint you?” Leira asked.
“No,” Fal answered.
“What do witches do that you don’t?”
“I’ve heard they have a lot of sex.”
“That’s both sad and hilarious at the same time,” Alfonsa remarked.
Gingerbread Person
#ScribesAndMakers 12/3. Describe an action scene involving only non-sentient inanimate objects.
(As the prompt reads, but not as intended)
The gingerbread person stretched and then waved their feet in the air. “That was toasty nice! My heart is even gooey.”
They reached up and touched the melted chocolate kiss on their chest.
“Look, Daddy, it’s talking,” said a girl with flour still on her face.
“That’s quite the imagination you have. We’d better quickly eat it before it introduces itself. You should never eat anything that has introduced itself.”
RE: https://mas.to/@tezoatlipoca/115644977307388035
On the second day of #Fediverse my true love gave to me
Two #Microfic s
And a #toot in my #mastodon #feed.
And here they are!
https://aus.social/@rdm/115649665698764133
https://aus.social/@rdm/115649457727561795
It is that time of year again, and we are cooking up a storm. Between the folks at the office, and all the friends we've made through Charlie's work - not to mention her extended family - we would be beggared if we tried to buy everyone gifts.
So, instead, we do this. I take a week off, and we can, jam, bake, and all the rest. Of course it is not as simple as it might be for some people.
We have to account for obligate carnivores, photosynthesisers, and a dozen or more other weird and wonderful metabolisms. The silicavores are especially exciting to cook for!
Fortunately, Charlie, while not one of natures great cooks, is very, very good at preserving and transmutation spells. And, for the silicavores, we do enlist some outside help in the form of a medusa we know.
So we have jars, and cans, and baking trays everywhere this week. And there's a knock at the door.
I go over, check the peephole, and see that it isn't Xyllia this time (that's the medusa - I had a bit of an accident with her once). I open the door to a young lady. She's completely human. How do I know? I've met her before.
"Hi Nicola! What's up?"
"Hello ... um, I need a bit of help."
"What with?"
"What do I get Candice and her partner for Christmas?"
Candice is her girlfriend's, Anthea, mum. Her partner is a telepathic intelligent plant. Who is sort of Anthea's dadmumthing.
I think fast. "OK, Candice is easy - get her a bookshop voucher. She loves to read. As for her partner... Umm"
Fortunately for me Charlie's been listening in from the kitchen. "Just get it a bag of blood and bone. It'll appreciate it," she calls out.
Nicola looks doubtful.
"Hey, if Charlie says that's a good gift, it is a good gift. Although I suppose you could just go with a large dead animal of some kind. A bag of blood and bone is easier."
She still looks a little doubtful, but nods. "Ok, Toby," and she calls out "Thank-you Charlie."
Charlie calls back "No problem,oh, and you're both invited to the party on the 29th."
"I'll remind Anthea. Bye!"
Just another day in the lead up to Christmas for us.
#SF #SFF #Fantasy #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #CharlieAndToby #IAmWriting
It is a popular mathematical experiment to try and work out just how fast Santa has to be to reach every house with a child in a single 24 hour period.
The calculations always end up with a significant fraction of the speed of light.
There then usually follow discussions about what the collateral damage from Santa's passing would be. And cargo limits, and so on.
All of these are wrong, and ignore another end-of-year tradition. The portrayal of the ending year as an old man.
Now that I've put these two traditions side-by-side, I think you can see what is really going on.
It is possible for one man to visit every house in a night, with no shock waves or any of that silliness. But it comes at a cost.
For that man, the night lasts many years, as he travels back in time after each visit. Even with time travel, he does not get much time to eat - so the snacks you leave out are essential to him surviving the night.
But he only just survives. By the end of the night he will have aged over forty years. And then he hands the reins of the time-travelling sleigh to a younger man, warning him of the cost.
Someone always answers the call, despite the cost, because there is always someone willing to sacrifice everything to bring joy and light, even just a little, even if only for a moment.
So leave the snacks, and, if you catch a glimpse of him, give him a bow of respect. He deserves it.
#SFF #SF #Christmas #Santa #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting
Games:
She held out her two fists, fingers down. Braia tapped the left one. Sana unfurled her hand to reveal that it was empty.
“Bad start,” Sana said. “I take wood,” replacing the missing pedaille. Rain hadn’t even seen her take it.
Sana moved the pedaille positioned in front of her Minister piece. Braia responded by moving her pedaille immediately before one of her chevaler. Sana responded by moving her Emperor's footman in line with the Minister’s. Braia brought out her dragon.
“Wyvern,” Sana said.
“We call it The Curtain.”
“We?”
“We used to play in the Dragon Tower.”
“But no longer?”
“I like tactical games, but I prefer them to have an element of luck. No battle has ever been won on tactics alone.”
The word spread. The crowd grew. Sana playing an Armen Knight. The Gods themselves couldn’t have wished for a better match. There were applause, cheers and jeers as the game progressed. Most of the audience favouring the local hero, Sana. Lots of money was wagered.
The game was close. Rain didn’t know who was going to win. He tried to guess the possible moves each of the opponents could take, but found that he was wrong on most occasions. In the end it was a mistake that turned the game.
Braia exposed one of her Barons. Sana took it, realising too late that it was a trap. From then on it was a foregone conclusion.
Sana tipped her Emperor on its side, conceding. The crowd erupted into applause.
Iris (Part 11)
Adele pulled up at the dock in a thoughtful mood. Checking the surrounds, she got out of the car, and went aboard. "Just me!" she called out.
"In the galley!" Came the reply. That meant that all was well aboard.
She went into the main cabin, and found Iris and Dave on one of the couches. "The girls?" she asked.
"Swimming" Iris answered "What's up? Something happen?"
"No, yes, sort-of, but nothing bad?"
"That sounds like an answer that needs support. Hang on," Dave said shaking his head. He poured a small measure of brandy for Adele, a shot of Irish for Iris and himself, and carried them over.
Adele nodded her thanks, had a small sip, and then looked at the couple. "The meeting did not go how I expected. The teacher just knew that Alice is fudging her scores. Then she smelled me. And that 's where it got strange."
"Your daughter's teacher smelling you isn't strange?" Iris asked with a raised eyebrow.
"It was not like she sniffed my hand. She just sort of opened her mouth and inhaled. The weird bit was when her hand went furry."
"What?!" exclaimed Dave.
"As I watched, her hand became a furred claw, and then changed back. She said she was a werepanther."
Iris and Dave stared.
"You've never heard of them?"
"Uh, no. Iris?"
"No, nor any other sort of were. I mean there are selkies and some dolphin and shark shapeshifters. But then, I'm a water sprite, and I only really know about that side of things. It kind of makes sense that there are other people out there."
"Siobhan called you 'exotics'."
"As good a term as any, I guess."
There were noises from the aft of the boat. "Mum?" called Alice.
"In the galley" Adele called back.
Alice came in, with Indigo flop-sliding behind her. "How did it go? Did she buy it? Do we have to move?"
"Ok, no, and no."
"Great ... Wait? How?"
"Well, have you ever noticed anything odd about Ms Embrason?" Adele asked.
"Uh, I know she's got a black cat from the bits of fur. She's gay, but in the closet. That's about it."
"Well, it turns out she probably does not have a cat. She is one. A panther."
Indigo excitedly broke in "Like in that movie?! Did she try to eat you?"
"Who let you watch Cat People? And no. Not really, she can control it. Even change just part of herself. She smelled you and your mum, and then showed me. She's not going to push about your marks anymore."
"That's good?" Alice's reply sounded like an uncertain question.
"Alice! Your teacher's a werepanther! How cool is that?" Indigo was practically vibrating with excitement.
"And I'm still waiting for an answer about the movie, young ladies."
"Yes, we'd like to know, too" Dave added. Iris nodded.
The two girls looked at each other and said together "It's my fault."
Iris (Part 10)
Alice had a reputation at school for being a stickler for the rules. She was the one who never got hauled up, never got sent to the headmistress. She was not top of the class - but in the upper third. Good enough to not need attention, and not good enough to attract it.
It was the end of term, and Alice had just picked up her first report card for year 10. She looked it over, and saw what she wanted to see. Steady "B"s and "B+"s - a single "C+", and a single "A-". Then she read the comments.
"Shit." she said softly.
Nearby one of her classmates looked up "Alice? Did you just swear?" he asked in wonder.
"What?"
"I thought I heard you swear."
"Swearing is uncouth." was Alice's prim reply.
Tim looked at her. Alice looked back.
After a few moments, Tim looked away "Whatever."
That evening, she showed her mum. "Alice is holding herself back, and deliberately dropping marks. Parent-teacher meeting required." was the comment from her homeroom teacher.
"Alice, what do you want to do?" Adele, her mother asked.
"If I change schools again, it will attract attention. I guess, you'll have to meet with Ms Embrason."
Two days later, Adele dropped off Alice with Indigo and her parents on their boat, and drove to the school.
"Ah, Ms Ringly. I'm Siobhan Embrason, thank you for meeting with me. I'll get to the point. I want to know why Alice is throwing tests and assignments. She should be straight 'A's and in line for Dux in a couple of years."
"I am sure my daughter is doing the very best she can."
"And I am certain she isn't. Is there some sort of trouble at home? I've noticed that she does not really make friends - " Siobhan broke off, and deeply inhaled through her mouth. She let out a small "Oh."
"Ms Embrason?" Adele started to look alarmed.
The young teacher shook her self. "Ms Ringly, please look at my left hand."
Adele looked down, and her jaw dropped open, as she watched the hand turn into a hairy claw, and then back into a hand. She looked up.
"I am a werepanther. I can smell that you have met other exotic people."
Adele sighed. "My daughter's best friend is a mermaid. Her mother is a Naiad."
Siobhan nodded "I see. And her marks?"
"To protect me since I retired."
"Retired from what?"
"Mob boss."
"How does dropping marks?"
"Low profile, no attention. Never stand out, nothing that might end up in the press."
"Couldn't you move?"
"Alice would kill me if I tried to take her away from Indigo. Assuming Indigo's parents didn't get to me first."
Siobhan sighed. "OK, I'll drop it."
"Are there many exotics around?"
"A few. I'm surprised you've not met any others."
"Only Indigo and Iris."
"What about the father?"
"Oh, he's just a pain in the butt ex-cop."
@yaxu In the post AI world, brave language designers will scramble to add anti-AI features to fend off the bots from their userbase.
The foreleader of the proglang resistance will be genderscript, a fork of typescript that started off by renaming the type keyword to`gender.`
https://github.com/orgs/community/discussions/72603
Conflict:
“Why haven't I heard of you before?”
Banks’ fist whitened, as he grew more frustrated.
“I still don't know who you are,” Wells said, glancing around to the others for support. “Or why I, or anyone else, would wish to share everything we have learned with you. You say the Russians are planning to move, but what proof do you have?”
“Yes,” Chung added. “I would need to confirm with my own sources before I would ever commit to such an coalition.”
“Is that why you prohibited us from bringing any communication devices to the meeting?” Wells asked, his expression triumphant – like he had made some crucial point.
“Mister Wells,” Banks began, his voice deadpan. “Have you ever been in a modern warzone?”
“No, of cour-”
“Then let me tell you that the current generation of drones can track a phone signal and deliver a twelve-and-a-half kilogram warhead - that's about twenty-eight pounds for you - with pinpoint accuracy. Completely autonomously. The operator could launch it from a boat kilometres out to sea, or from the top of the Rock of Gibraltar, and the first time you'd be aware of the attack is waking up before the Pearly Gates and trying to explain to Saint Peter why you're such a lecherous cunt.”
Wells blanched. The others in the room remained silent, looking equally shocked.
Now, Banks was getting somewhere.
Case: 20250621/34x
Statement of Jessica Alice Parmeter (Missing person of interest, 2025/06/21-2025/06/28)
Date: 2025/06/29
I was diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer six months ago, and what treatments they had available did not help. I moved to the palliative care unit here in town two months ago. There's only me at home, so care at home was not really possible once I could not care for myself.
I don't really know what day it was - I was on very heavy pain medication, and it had me tripping out pretty badly. But I remember hearing the beep of the morphine pump.
Then I felt a weight on my legs, and a green haze came over my eyes.
The next thing I remember, I was looking at a concrete wall, through a haze of green. It thinned out, but before I could look around, someone put a blindfold on me. I started to try to reach for it, but a muffled voice said "Please don't - it is for all our safety that you can't see right now." And a hand very gently put itself between my hand and the blindfold. I pushed it aside and there was no resistance. I started to lift it, and again the voice said "Please, don't".
I stopped trying then. Then the voice said "Here, put this on" and put a bathrobe in my hands. That's when I realized I was standing up and naked.
It also dawned on me that I was not in any pain, and even my old hockey break didn't hurt. That's when I asked "Am I dead?"
The voice, still muffled, said "No. You're all better now. Let me take you out of here, so you can be found."
And they took me by the hand, and lead me along for about ... I guess about half an hour? I felt sunlight for part of it.
Then they said "Count to one hundred, and take the blindfold off."
So I did what they asked, and found myself on the edge of town. I waved down a passing car, and they brought me here.
The doctors have given me a once over, and there is no sign of me ever having had cancer. Or any injuries. I don't even have any fillings any more.
I don't really know what happened, or who the voice was, but I am so happy they did whatever it was they did to me! I'm really looking forward to teaching again.
Statement ends.
Attachments: Medical report pre and post disappearance.
#microfic #microfiction #sf #SFF #tootfic #IAmWriting
Links to https://aus.social/@rdm/114687852076251740
Unexpected:
“Ahaaaaaah! I bet that was unexpected.”
“Well, I did call a plumber.”
“And?”
“You’re in my kitchen, at three o’clock in the morning.”
“Aaaaand?”
“You’re completely naked.”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaad?”
“You’ve fixed my tap?”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnd?”
“The bill is much less than I expected.”
“Ta-dah!”
“Please don’t wave that around. You’ll poke an eye out.”
Client Info
Server: https://mastodon.social
Version: 2025.07
Repository: https://github.com/cyevgeniy/lmst