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Entry tags:
genesis
[There are some things that a self-confessed bibliophile can't do, and one of those is wake up to see a never-before-seen book nearby without investigating it1, which is why Aziraphale's initial concern about waking up somewhere foreign is swallowed almost at once in examining the journal on his bedside.
There were so many entries to read through, and most of them talking about things that seemed ludicrous. Magic castles? Wishes? Losses? It was all utter nonsense, worse than the time he had accidentally picked up a Mills and Boon instead of a Dickens2. He was fairly certain it was some strange collaborative writing process, though that didn't explain how he was stood in an actual castle right now.]
Excuse me?
[The voice that comes through the book is hesitant in the same way a grandmother being taught to use the latest mobile telephone and doesn't quite trust that it won't accidentally short circuit is hesitant.]
If somebody would be so kind as to direct me to the nearest television set? I hate to intrude for such a request, but Countdown starts in just five minutes and I don't want to miss it.
[He has decided to just ignore this nonsense for now. After all, if you just told reality what for in a stern enough tone, then it might buck its ideas up and start behaving again. He was sure he heard that somewhere. Or perhaps that had been about how to make naughty children behave instead of reality? Either way, it seemed a good idea.]
1. The others include such things as owning at least one store away anorak, and tutting at people who didn't own library cards.
2. That had been the one and only time he had tried to order books using the newfangled automated telephone system. He had written a sternly worded letter to the head office about it, and had received another Mills and Boon as compensation.
There were so many entries to read through, and most of them talking about things that seemed ludicrous. Magic castles? Wishes? Losses? It was all utter nonsense, worse than the time he had accidentally picked up a Mills and Boon instead of a Dickens2. He was fairly certain it was some strange collaborative writing process, though that didn't explain how he was stood in an actual castle right now.]
Excuse me?
[The voice that comes through the book is hesitant in the same way a grandmother being taught to use the latest mobile telephone and doesn't quite trust that it won't accidentally short circuit is hesitant.]
If somebody would be so kind as to direct me to the nearest television set? I hate to intrude for such a request, but Countdown starts in just five minutes and I don't want to miss it.
[He has decided to just ignore this nonsense for now. After all, if you just told reality what for in a stern enough tone, then it might buck its ideas up and start behaving again. He was sure he heard that somewhere. Or perhaps that had been about how to make naughty children behave instead of reality? Either way, it seemed a good idea.]
1. The others include such things as owning at least one store away anorak, and tutting at people who didn't own library cards.
2. That had been the one and only time he had tried to order books using the newfangled automated telephone system. He had written a sternly worded letter to the head office about it, and had received another Mills and Boon as compensation.
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