25th February, 1889 — Ministry Break Room
It may have been coming up on eighteen years of being in the Ministry, but Ewart had yet to develop even a pinch of disinterest in his work. Of course, he suspected that was because his committee was the only corner of the whole institution that wasn't dull as ditchwater - but oh, he pitied the rest of them, and all their humdrum.
He pitied them all the more when, upon occasion, he ventured up to one of the break rooms to mingle with the mundanes, and found himself sliding into boredom when he spent any longer here than the time it took to munch upon a sandwich.
(He had just finished his sandwich.)
"Good day," Ewart said serenely to the person seated across from him, as though they had both not been in the room for at least a quarter of an hour already. He pointed across to the hat that had been set atop the table near them. "Is that, by any chance, your hat?"
He had not seen them touch it, in the time they had been here. (And, you see, for the last quarter of an hour, he had been looking very intently at the hat.)
He pitied them all the more when, upon occasion, he ventured up to one of the break rooms to mingle with the mundanes, and found himself sliding into boredom when he spent any longer here than the time it took to munch upon a sandwich.
(He had just finished his sandwich.)
"Good day," Ewart said serenely to the person seated across from him, as though they had both not been in the room for at least a quarter of an hour already. He pointed across to the hat that had been set atop the table near them. "Is that, by any chance, your hat?"
He had not seen them touch it, in the time they had been here. (And, you see, for the last quarter of an hour, he had been looking very intently at the hat.)
