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“Oh, this is terrible, if it’s bad, it’s terrible, if it’s good, it’s terrible! I don’t know what’s worse!”
“This isn’t making any sense, what’s good, what’s terrible?”
“At work this afternoon, I had an unexpected visitor. He was asking about shipments of silver, and zinc. He wasn’t asking about provisioning at all!”
“Who?”
“MaxChaos!”
“MaxChaos? What’s so bad about that?”
“He gave me a love letter!”
Stunned silence!
Followed by more stunned silence!
Staring at Conning with incredulity, KristalClear can sense creepy crawlies climbing up the back of her neck, becoming tangled and trapped in her clean, beautiful, long, deep brown hair. She can feel a cold, wet haddock taking hold of her hand, tugging her towards a chilly Irish Sea. Her feet are twitching as she senses quicksand begin to ooze up and engulf her shoes, with an insurmountable force pulling her down.
“That’s interesting,” she says, “tell me more!”
Once again, not knowing whether to laugh or cry Conning can feel tears of anguish battling to cascade down her delicate, pretty face. She fights them back.
“It was awful! He obviously wrote it himself, without any help. You know he’s not good at reading and writing.”
“What did it say?”
“I can’t tell you, childish gibberish, something about buttercups … that’s enough!”
“Yes, and how does that make you feel?”
Conning’s mind is wandering. She doesn’t answer the question. Her thoughts are already racing in a different direction. She’s thinking the horoscope said “played well, this may be a stepping stone”.
Conning blurts out, “oh no, is this supposed to be good news? What did I say? I told him he has BO! Well, I didn’t say ‘you have BO’, I said he smelt of fish. He’s probably too thick
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