“What
symptoms are you experiencing?
Disorientation?”
“No.”
“Drowsiness?”
That
was more difficult. Everyone under Lady
Schrapnell’s las was automatically sleep deprived, but I doubted that the nurse
would take that into consideration and at any rate it didn’t manifest itself so
much as drowsiness as a sort of “walking dead” numbness, like people bombarded
night after night in the Blitz had suffered from.
“No,”
I said finally.
“Slowness
in Answering,” she said into the handheld.
“When’s the las time you slept?”
“1940,” I said promptly, which is the problem with
Quickness in Answering.
Connie Willis
Chapter 2 – To Say Nothing of
the Dog
It's cold enough for a hat! |
I’ve been on vacation since Friday but still
haven’t done as much reading as I’d wanted (which was to finish every book ever
written!). But, today I had the most
perfect morning and breakfast. Cuddling (and
reading Willis) with my little sleep-groggy girl because it was so cold, and
then the most perfect breakfast: Emmeline and I squeezed oranges we had picked
yesterday morning, then coffee, eggs and sausage, oatmeal and brown sugar, To
Say Nothing of the Dog.
My daughter.
Food. Vacation. Willis.
This is the life. Yawp.
Picking oranges. |
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