Chapter 11 of the Aphanes finished.

[tocryabout]

I feel guilty posting fanfic on a day like today. But obviously not guilty enough. Anyway, I'm not good at writing thoughtful responses to sudden world events like this: all I can ever think is something along the lines of, "Poor London."

I'm also thinking of some crazy woodcut I saw once that depicted the Black Plague as a team of giant skeletons merrily wreaking havoc in London, with the caption, "Lord have mercy on Engelonde. Wee dye." But that's just depressing, and a little over-the-top, so I probably shouldn't have brought it up.

Anyway, Chapter 11, "And Those at Sea." Featuring Mark's Work Wearhouse, the book of Job, and the well-documented phenomenon of old Maritimer women who say insensitive things at funerals.

(Read from the beginning)

Comments

[to-cry-about.livejournal.com]

Thank you, although most of it was shamelessly lifted from my great-aunt's funeral earlier this year, including the conversation that went from "what awful embalming" to "our cousin's in-laws are dangerous bitches". So maybe I shouldn't take credit. ;-P