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80 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 13, 2020
"I'm Eilidh, I'm the lawyer," she said, in the tone of one confessing a regrettable disease.
"Good question," Ari said, and Jules imagined what the minute would look like. Diggory asked a good question."
Diggory was away at a training session on Handling Vexatious Correspondence.
"Everyone sends me memos," Ari said, looking up in surprise. "I don't want them. I want to make completely uninformed policy based on whatever I feel like."
Ari tasted saltwater, like grief ... "We have tried to change things for the better," Ari said, through a wash of something that felt like drowning. "We try, and what we get is the Acts. All we ever get is more to do. All we ever get is requiem."
"I can't," Ari said, not quite sure what he was saying. "I can't have you here."
It was true, once he'd managed to get the words out. He couldn't have this man – bright-eyed, lovely, flushed with cold – in his living room, saying things like let me look after you a little.
"regional infrastructure said if we didn't get the final bill documentation across to them today they'd come over and have us shot."
"does anyone round here," jules said, "not operatically overreact to everything?"
"[she's] nice, but she's not you[...] by which I mean, she's nice. she's friendly and she never asks anyone if they were born this idiotic or do they work at it."
"you weren't actually together, though?" [...]
"no. [...] not after a while, but it wasn't less important, if you can understand that."
"yes. [...] very modern way to live, I think. very grown-up, very queer."
[...] "I, ah, I don't think I've ever told you—"
"I can see your bookcases from here[...] you've got, ooh, the well of loneliness, gender trouble, the charioteer and, how pretty, something about the folsom street fair."
[...] "fine, yes."