Broom (9)

BROOM (9)

I was emptying the bins and recycling things, when the girl from Havana observed:

'I think it's so cute, this mobile institute. Can I come along, too?' she purred. (I noticed my teeth felt all furred.) 'Because, you'll need a spare driver, a spare pair of hands and I'm never more happy than when traversing new lands. I'm, for certain, a victim of wanderlust. Come, let's do it together: Monte Carlo or bust.'

She punched me rather heartily on my left upper arm. Christ, these ethnologists have no idea of the harm that they cause.

I think it's Havana (but, it could be Savannah); whatever, our girl is a veritable trooper. I looked at her briefly, and said:

'I believe that you're very well read.'

She said: 'I'm a professional researcher (you're envious, I betcha). I do what I want when I will. There ain't nothing surpasses free-will. But, you gotta be tough, abrasive and gruff, and, you're better off on the pill.

'Yes, children will just cramp you style,' she said with a feline-fanged smile.