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View Diary: Write On! To plan or not to plan? (106 comments)

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    Bodrin had become noticeably gloomier as the evening progressed.

    "All right, give!" Clarse rasped out in a low growl after he managed to maneuver Bodrin into a strategic corner behind the aspidistras. "What's eating you? We're hardly going to pass as casual attendees if you keep going around looking like someone who wandered into this gala from a funeral."

    Bodrin glowered for a moment, then with an effort smoothed his features into something a little more appropriate for a public jubilee.

    "It's Chloe. You never met her - it was years ago - but she still has a place in my heart, believe it or not. It's times like this that bring back the last time I saw her. Most people couldn't get past her, um, abundant physical blessings, but I was captured by how graceful she was, how light on her feet despite her tonnage. She was wonderful. She touched me in a way I've never been touched since. And stop snickering!

    Take a look at that woman over there. She almost looks like the spitting image of Chloe - but she dances like a damned brontosaurus. I look at her, and it just seems so wrong."

    Clarse took a deep breath.

    "Look I know I'm the callow youth and all that, and I've got issues of my own in the romance department, but even I know that sooner or later you've either "got to get back up on the horse again" no matter how much it hurts at first or just plain give up. And giving up is NOT an option for stout companions, i.e.: you. If you're going to hold up your end of this partnership, you'd better man up and you'd better ask the brontosaurus to dance."

    Bodrin gave Clarse a stare that seemed to last just a little too long to be comfortable, shook himself, and with an air of determination began to make his way through the crowd towards the woman who had paused between dance numbers.

    A small, wistful smile flashed across Clarse's face as he turned - and then he became aware of green eyes watching him from under fashionably trimmed eyebrows, one of them stretched in a sardonic arch...

    "No special skill, no standard attitude, no technology, and no organization - no matter how valuable - can safely replace thought itself."

    by xaxnar on Thu Jun 27, 2013 at 05:43:42 PM PDT

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