The Salle, Monday Morning
Monday. Salle. Arthur.
It would surprise no one that by now, the one function he had truly mastered on his Blackberry was the spreadsheet one. He used it to keep his schedule.
Between drills, he agonized over what to do with his Thursday afternoons. He just had church; surely, there had to be something else he could fit in there?
During drills, however, he thought of nothing of the kind: he just moved, fast as always, sword slicing through the air before him. With utmost concentration.
Still. Thursdays. It bugged.
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It would surprise no one that by now, the one function he had truly mastered on his Blackberry was the spreadsheet one. He used it to keep his schedule.
Between drills, he agonized over what to do with his Thursday afternoons. He just had church; surely, there had to be something else he could fit in there?
During drills, however, he thought of nothing of the kind: he just moved, fast as always, sword slicing through the air before him. With utmost concentration.
Still. Thursdays. It bugged.
[[ open! ]]