Saturday, December 5, 2009

" The two girls arrived at the Negresco to find Poirot waiting. He was full of Gallic politeness and showered so many compliments upon the.

Farther away Trin Kronos put on a burst of speed. Duncan snapped on his safety harness touched the retractor bar to shorten the wings for jet-boost takeoff while Resser stared in disbelief. "Come on!" Grinning the redhead found new energy. He sprinted forward as Duncan slid the starter switch into position. In his years of service to the Duke he'd been taught to fly by some of the best pilots.
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Wicked right there on the page - built a clock of glass in which he captured Time herself but things went wrong because there was one part of the clock a spring that he couldn't make out of glass and it broke under the strain. Time was set free and the man aged ten thousand years in a second and crumbled to dust and - not surprisingly in Jeremy's opinion - was never seen again. The story ended with a moral: Large Enterprises Depend upon Small Details. Jeremy couldn't see why it couldn't just as well have been It's Wrong to Trap Non-Existent Women in Clocks or It Would Have Worked with a Glass Spring. But even to Jeremy's inexperienced eye there was something wrong with the whole story. It read as though the writer was trying to make sense of something he'd seen or been told and had misunderstood. And - hah! - although it was set hundreds of years ago when even in Uberwald there were only natural cuckoo.
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