mental link, day :039

[polyphonos]

[The soft, rhythmic hiss of cards shuffling. Something honeyed on the tongue. The tang of citrus in the air. Cathaway's mind is an irregular, wavering thread picking crooked stitches through the Station.]

( Ilde and us were hard at work while you all were gone. We'd like to treat you to dinner tomorrow. )

Comments

[redheadcarrier]

( I want to be productive, not distracted. )

[ Which is, in its own way, just trying to distract one's self. ]

[erbier]

( I will let you decide for yourself, I can show you a little and, if you dislike it, we will stick to math. )

[redheadcarrier]

( You know what? Sure. Not like I have anything else going for me here. )