(no subject)
Stephen was in better spirits than the previous week, having made up with Jane, and now he was in the midst of planning a great scientific endeavor: namely, his long-delayed trip to dinosaur territory to investigate the beasts firsthand. After much thought, he had finally decided that the risks were worth the discoveries he might make, and in any case, surely the injuries he had witnessed in the clinic were the result of islanders being taken unawares, or antagonizing the dinosaurs; he would do neither, and so would remain safe.
He would leave on the morrow, he had decided, and stay the weekend. His assembled bag of provisions was back in his hut, and at the moment he was sitting at the desk, busily cleaning his new pistol with a rag taken from the clothesbox. The fact that the pistol had only a single shot, and that dinosaurs were not easily killed, did not concern him. It was for Science.
[Thursday night clinic post. Yes, he's insane.]
He would leave on the morrow, he had decided, and stay the weekend. His assembled bag of provisions was back in his hut, and at the moment he was sitting at the desk, busily cleaning his new pistol with a rag taken from the clothesbox. The fact that the pistol had only a single shot, and that dinosaurs were not easily killed, did not concern him. It was for Science.
[Thursday night clinic post. Yes, he's insane.]