Someone Hyphen Mommy

“Fuck me,” said Dimitri. “Farmers of geese.” He took another swig on his bottle of firewater.

A swig in space is a funny thing. Of primary importance is the customised shot-pourer calculated to deliver a globule of colored firewater of adjustable volume capable of hovering and bobbling indefinitely before the mouth. One swallows the globule as the frog might a fly, though lacking a tongue. Tongues are of no use at all in space apart from tasting.

But then they are without equal.

On a good night, Dimitri might release four or five globules in one go, breathing lightly on each (funnily enough, air too is weightless in space, much in the same way that thoughts are weightless on earth), then spending a pleasant thirty five minutes or so hunting them down, all the while talking to himself in his native Russian dialect.

Coloring was optional as the globules were sometimes hard to see.

Occasionally, a globule might self-destruct upon contact with some nasty object, which could also be a funny thing, although harder to swallow.

A murder in space is a funny thing. Likewise making love. Lots of things are funny in space. * Sarah‟s new job was the roadworks contract for the entire Fresno area.

There was a catch however. Deconstruction and repair (repair ought to be essential for the sake of appearances) was to happen, near as blankets, at tortoise pace. Mommy had made it fairly clear. Disrupt the traffic as much as possible. Ultimately, say within a certain period of time, roadworks vehicles were to be the only viable means of transport. Though not, of course, available to the public.

Sometime before “The Zombie Queen,” Sarah had Harriet hire the appropriate people, one team of which now had the on-going job of figuring out the worst time of day for road works, and the worst place.

Preferably both. Generally speaking, all road works were good. * The Baldwin movie was the rage. A coast-wide hit. “The Zombie Queen.”

Sarah hadn‟t seen it, but nearly everyone at The Cornerest Bar had.