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| fantavirus | |
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Tictictic. Tictictictic. I stopped to pour the water out of the keyboard again. I was sitting too close to the overhang, and it was still raining. However, I was at a loss to explain where the chili flakes were coming from. Tic. Tictictic. Tictic tictictic. Remarkably water-resistant, this one. Just for good measure, though, I continued to empty it out every so often, before the keycaps could submerge. Just about then, my ride pulled up. "This thing is indestructible," I remarked as I tossed the keyboard into the passenger-side footwell. We then departed in search of a vendor of physically impossible bicycles. The map suggested it was two miles past the place where I once saw a pair of buses turn into giant robots and have a fistfight with one another. After a couple of wrong turns, we accidentally struck a cyclist, or he struck us; which it was is unclear and depends on the choice of reference frame. We pulled over to help him, but by then he had already sawed off his leg. I decided not to question it. We never found who was selling the physically impossible bicycles, but we did discover a tree growing through a staircase. The day had worn on from morning to noon and back again. |
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| Posted by Atomdrache @ 2014-06-10 10:31:48 | |
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