I heard the sound of a quad drone come and go.
I put my daughter in my chest pocket and got up to check the door.
Reaching into mid air, I grabbed my twelve gauge and opened the front door with a kick.
Props to the builders, by the way.
"I want the front door to swing inward when opening normally, but the door and part of the frame must be able to swing outward with little force in case of an emergency exit situation.
Please make it as robust as possible.
The latch must lock the top and bottom of the frame, in place."
Yeah, talk about delivery.
It was pricey getting enough Osage orange lumber for the door and complete frame.
It's springier than any other wood, which means that it can take a hell of a lot of force without cracking.
When the door swung out, an envelope flew back toward my feet.
Tossing the shotgun over my shoulder, it vanished and I picked up the envelope.
It was from Matthew...
I closed the door and latched the frame.
Opening the envelope, I pulled out the letter and tossed the envelope for it to vanish, as well.
Yes, paper has the potential to be used as or partly as a weapon.
Anyway, I called my wife's name.
She came over and I read the letter.
Yep. Dyslexic as ever with C's and S's." I finished, laughing.
I went to the phone and looked at the calendar on the wall.
"Today is the 14th..."
I dialled his home phone.
"Hallo, Matthew O'Neillsen speakin'.
Can I help ye?" He asked.
"Oy, Matty me'boy. It be yer best friend.
Oi learned ye han't me number, so Oi thot ta ring ye."
"Oh, shite! That's yer best yet, ye bastard!
Did ye get me invitation?" He asked excitedly.
"Aye, laddie. But I'm afraid ye'll have ta ask that question..."
I put the receiver on the base.
"Âfâr!"
I appeared in front of him, looking like he was about to yell.
"... in person." I finish.
"Jesus Christ! Ya bloody lout!
*Calms down a bit*
Will ya be me best man, er no?" He asked.
"Ye ought ta know I would never back out o' that promise, boyo, and ye have the nerve ta be callin' me a lout."
In this moment, my wife was in hysterical laughter.
"Aye, Matty boy. Ye only need tell me when an' I'll be thar, ye blund'rin oaf.
Ye still can't spell "sincerely" right." I laughed.
"So? Still got me point across, eh?"
"That, ye did. So. When's the ceremony? Ye didn't put down a date." I said
"Damn!
I completely fergot!
It be the se'enth o' next month."
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Bun And Loaf.
FantasiaClark Robinson was trying to live single and celibate for the rest of his life, because of his abusive and feminist extremist ex fiancée. That is until a gorgeous, otherworldly and furry temporal gate victim appears. She makes quick and easy work of...
