Jo watched a family of ducks on the lake as she waited for his return. It was easier to focus on their paddling than the tense conversation Alfred and she were now having. The ducks didn't have to navigate potentially upsetting topics or discuss heavy traumas. To them, their worst trauma would be getting eaten by a predator, at which point it would no longer matter because they would be dead. Merlin, how terrible did reality have to be that Jo was wishing to be a duck of all things?
"...It's good to feel useful, at least."
His sudden reappearance caused Jo to jump out of her skin. "Where's the tea?" She asked, looking around as if two cups might suddenly appear. It was only then that Jo realized what he had said, that he had repeated himself again. A dream, this had to be a dream.
"...It's good to feel useful, at least."
His sudden reappearance caused Jo to jump out of her skin. "Where's the tea?" She asked, looking around as if two cups might suddenly appear. It was only then that Jo realized what he had said, that he had repeated himself again. A dream, this had to be a dream.