so we’ve been up since 0400 hours but we’ve still not left This Coast due to delays at the Airport.
the good news is that we’re already on NY time, due to the earlier-than-usual-start.
and the Other delicious bit of news is we got a magical-mysterious UPGRADE! (which we don’t qualify for at all – no credit card-miles or frequency-flying-ness – Nada – don’t believe in them).
so maybe the gods-at-Delta are just regular visitors to teamgloria (wouldn’t that be ever so sweet?)
the other good thing is that we got to see our First (in – ahem – many moons) Music Review go live at Los Angeles, I’m Yours!
here’s a taster of our prose:
we’ve done a Surprisingly vast amount of work considering how little sleep we’re operating on.
luckily we’re up the Front of the plane and so can
d o z e
all the way over the USA.
and write a little more of The House On Church Row, of course –
we’re now up to 66, 639 words (which is Such a Lot of them, non?)!
here’s where we’ve left off and we’ll be picking up the Threads somewhere over Chicago with a large mug of tea and a small snack.
“Are they all here to buy the cars that we did that campaign for?” he scratched his head under the wig and re-adjusted it as a woman from the Home Counties (in a remarkably similar outfit) smiled at him.
“You’re a man?” said Anthony, horrified.
“Last time I checked, love, yeah,” said Dorian flashing his best Doris Day smile and flirting ever such a tiny bit.
“What do you mean, blood’s thicker than water?” said Marion, remembering what Anthony said. Then a camera crew from the BBC arrived and started to film the women in the showroom.
“Looks like we’re famous, Kel,” said Anthony, his chest puffing up in pride. Kelly took stock of the situation – she’d always wanted to be on camera. She looked hesitantly at her boss who smiled and made a gesture of stepping aside. Being interviewed by the BBC was the last thing on Marion’s wishlist. Not if she wanted to stay alive. The Agency hated it when its agents spoke without going through official channels. She slipped out of the showroom and cut through the alleyway past the Vidal Sassoon’s training school and the chandelier stores and then saw the car with its blinkers on and Charlotte waving madly out of the back window.