fuck_it: (ohhh yeah)
A little while back, Chris found himself in one of Darrow's bookshops. He hadn't meant to go in, but there'd been this fuckin' amazing display in the window, stacked high with books on flowers, and before he knew it, his face was pressed up against the window, while he tried to figure out how they got it to do that without toppling over.

He went in to ask someone-- the manager or something-- but got distracted, by, of all things, a book on Darrow records. He bought it without a second thought, and spent the rest of the night reading up on Darrow's biggest sandwich and the longest someone in Darrow's stayed awake and the biggest sandcastle.

It ain't even that big, really.

Which is why Chris is spending his day off on the beach today with a couple of those sand buckets, a couple of little shovels and loads of sand. He reckons with a couple hours work, he can manage to beat it. Ten feet isn't even all that tall, when you think about it.

Alright, so maybe he'll have to get a ladder, near the end, but for now, he's got his mound of sand, and he's adding to it, the indentations in the sand his bare feet make getting deeper the longer he digs.

This is gonna take most of the afternoon.


fuck_it: (Default)Chris Miles

March 2015

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