Dr Ferguson’s Gory Reminder
promptly caught fire the very first time- , but he’s a chef,
- I don’t recall hearing the astronauts mention
- tacky crochet pants
- understood both Shakespeare and the needs of her body
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Dr Ferguson’s gory reminder brought up some things I hadn’t thought about in a very long time. Things I’d always believed were mere legends. Supposedly, the Academy and all its sister schools were linked to a precursor of the US space program. I knew that agency was real, because I’d been taken on a field trip to see their aerospace lab. It was where they’d built a moon rocket in secret, which had promptly caught fire the very first time the windshield wipers were tested.
“Is the Director still around?” I asked.
She nodded. “He’s very old, but he’s a chef, so there’s no telling how long we’ll be stuck with him. Here” She thrust something at me that looked like a folded afghan. “I want you in uniform. At least to start.”
“I don’t recall hearing the astronauts mention tacky crochet pants when I took the tour.”
“They’re itchy, too,” she replied. “But that’s minor compared to going through life as a woman seeking a man who understood both Shakespeare and the needs of her body. I have it on good authority that you don’t know much about the Bard.” The damn slug tray swung back into view. “But I also hear that I’m not going to hold that against you.”
bonus points for using them in order