(no subject)

[clocked_out]

WHAT ¿
WHERE ¿
WHEN day (¿) 39
(optional) NOTES

[The sun doesn't so much as rise as flick on with the sudden, glaring brightness of noon. Whatever time keeping device you have on you says its about 8:14am when this happens.

The power's back, but the time on your timekeeping device never really make sense with the position of the sun as it moves across the sky.]

Comments

[wrongstory]

[impressed] Do you make a living of it, then?

[mindinthegittern]

That's right!

[wrongstory]

It must be nice having no employer to answer to.

[mindinthegittern]

In many ways. A bit insecure, but at least here I know I'll always have a roof over my head anyway.

[wrongstory]

[a little absently] Was that often a question, at home?

[mindinthegittern]

Not for me, except on the road—I'm lucky in my connections. But for Bards in general.

[wrongstory]

[smiling, a touch uncertain]

Well— I'm glad you continue to be spared from that anxiety, then.

[mindinthegittern]

...thanks. I just meant—you know, under the circumstances of being a stranger in a strange land, it's not something I expected to be able to take for granted.

[wrongstory]

We're all strangers, aren't we?

[mindinthegittern]

S'pose so, yes.

[wrongstory]

At least it doesn't have to remain so.

[mindinthegittern]

That is the best part of coming to a new town, in my opinion.

[wrongstory]

I suppose a positive way to look at our very long future here is to say that we'll never stop meeting new people?

[mindinthegittern]

...or run out of new songs, I hope!