| Ficbit Challenge 4
Nineteen
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| "Excuse me, but are you going to buy that?" the pale girl in black
said, leaning around the edge of the bookshelf and smiling at the tall
man in biker's leathers. 'Hell's Angels', his jacket said across the back.
He hadn't taken off his full-face helmet, but it didn't seem to faze her.
"Because I've been looking for a copy of that book for nearly forever..."
NO, said the tall biker, closing the lovely mint first-edition copy of Chronicle of a Death Foretold. I WAS SIMPLY LOOKING UP THE BITS IN WHICH I APPEAR. "Really?" The girl edged fully around the edge of the bookshelf and accepted the book from the man's outstretched hands. "What a coincidence! That's exactly the reason I've been looking for it, I've been told I'm in it too..." HOW ODD, said a third voice, as its owner drifted into view, tall and robed in black. I TOO AM TOLD I APPEAR IN THAT BOOK. Behind him, his horse whickered and snuffled on a Shakespearean folio. The other two glanced at him, and at the horse, and back to the book. YOU SOUND FAMILIAR, said the biker, finally. I CANNOT PLACE YOUR VOICE, BUT I AM SURE I HAVE HEARD IT BEFORE. The robed man hesitated. I WAS JUST THINKING THE SAME. "Are you gentlemen finding everything all right ahaahaaguhmah," said Aziraphale, rounding the corner and stopping quite abruptly. Three heads turned towards him, regarding him curiously through kohl-rimmed eyes, a mirrored helmet visor, and a pair of empty eye sockets. Aziraphale swallowed, put his hands behind his back, and stammered, "... er. Shall I, er, get us some tea?" |
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