Then Marry Me. For I Love You,

The Bus Timetable Sites Are All Run By An Inbred Cabal Of Malicious Gnomes. Who Don’t Speak English. And Who Don’t Count Very Well Either. Or Tell Time. And They Certainly Can’t Read Maps.

The Magic In That Country Was So Thick And Tenacious That It Settled Over The Land Like Chalk-dust And Over Floors And Shelves Like Slightly Sticky Plaster-dust. (housecleaners In That Country Earned Unusually Good Wages.) If You Lived In That Country, You Had To De-scale Your Kettle Of Its Encrustation Of Magic At Least Once A Week, Because If You Didn't, You Might Find Yourself Pouring Hissing Snakes Or Pond Slime Into Your Teapot Instead Of Water.

It Wasn't So Long Ago When All The So-called Scientists Said That Humans Were Intelligent And That Animals Weren't, Humans Were The Solitary Unchallenged Masters Of The Globe And Probably The Universe And The Only Question Was Whether We Were Handling Our Mastery Well. (no. Next Question.)

She Laughed At Him Then, Because He Sounded Like A Small Boy, Not Like A Very Large Grown-up Beast With A Voice So Deep It Made The Hair On The Back Of Your Neck Stir When You Heard It. 'but Vegetables Are Good For You,' She Said, And Added Caressingly, 'they Make You Grow Up Big And Strong.' He Smiled, Showing A Great Many Teeth. 'you See Why I Wish To Eat No More Vegetables.

What Was She To Say? "the Prodigal Has Returned? The Mutineer Wishes To Be Reinstated? The Subordinate, Having Gone To A Great Deal Of Trouble To Prove Her Commander Wrong, Has Come Back And Promises To Be A Good Little Subordinate Hereafter, Or At Least Until Next Time?