An extract from the work this week, from Folio 55: 4659, currently at page 509, the chapter entitled “Numerals”, in which water is everywhere.
Behind me, I feel-see-share the efforts of Seraph to merge his large bulk, increased yet again by the amount of kit he is carrying, against the wall, even as Smith pushes Oh-Dee against the opposite side, clips the two of them together, and then unceremoniously shoves her through the gap. For a brief moment, our cloak loses her footing and the water almost takes her for a full immersion bath; then Smith’s arm saves the day, steadying her form and tucking it in behind the shadow cast by the big man. Clipping herself to him, she turns and clips herself to me, then taps my shoulder. Time for the fun to begin.
Carefully, I slide myself to the left side of the stalagmites, hands held flat against the wall; no sooner has my body entered the column than my muscles kick into overdrive as something resembling Thor’s hammer smashes onto my head, my shoulders, and starts trying to turn the rest of me into a thin sheet of meat paste. This is not going to be easy.
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