All right, dudes. Get ready, for I seem to (briefly) be back in the land of the fannish! I've posted an update to Words and stones this week, written a couple thousand words of my Super Fun White Collar Caper today, and I've spent the last three hours time-lining another story on post-it notes.
I am en fuego right now, so let's play the
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It wasn't a far walk to the Banco Hipotecario from the plaza-- just a straight shot up Reconquista-- but she would have to hurry if she wanted there to be any decent light for photographs of the exterior.
Ariadne put the lens cap on the camera, zipped it up into the bag, and set off at a brisk pace across the cobblestones from the Pyramid. She'd spent longer at Plaza de Mayo than she'd meant, really, but there was something bubbling in her head now, maybe a chapter on the spacial dimensions of power and powerlessness. There was something there, something about the experience of white headscarves painted over top of a colonial foundation--
Her phone buzzed in her pocket before she reached Avenida Rivadavia. She pulled it out, stopping short when she saw the number.
It had been months since she had heard from Cobb, and that had been a just a quick and breezy email to touch base. Ariadne fumbled for the talk button, and moved to sit down on a nearby bench ( ... )
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::pokes brain::
What the hell, psyche? Is there something I'm supposed to get out of this?
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