|
Leave Mordor. Anakron looked at Panakeia's beseeching eyes, stunned. He had never allowed himself to even imagine such a chance for himself, and she was laying it before him as a virtual imperative.
"My only estel, do you think it could be done?"
Her face, already aglow, began to beam with hope. She nodded. "We must!"
"Then we shall."
"Oh Anakron!" Panakeia proceeded to plant labial tissue yet again on Anakron's labio-responsive receptors; which were, according to the most up-to-date anakronistic diagnostics very receptive indeed.
"But first, my star of the morning," Anakron said momentarily, "I want to take you on an excursion to Lūndūn, strictly to see the sites."
"A date?"
"An extended date. Shall we?"
"Let's shall!"
Anakron escorted Panakeia to the black stretch-limo which happened to resemble the black taxis of Lūndūn in all but length. Soon they were on their way down the British law roads, side by side in the back seat, Lūgnūt behind the wheel, leering grinningly through the rear view mirror. What the two spoke of to each other, no records say; nor does it say whether they spoke much or not, or whether they were otherwise engaged. Be that as it may, the records do say that they were living in a state of bliss, as if Mordor hardly existed for them.
At least for the time being.
Last edited by littlemanpoet; 09-02-2006 at 10:31 AM.
|