The Eighty Sixth

It was harrowing. The rain, it was relentless. The incompetence was too. A simple procedure that is done hundreds of times a week, botched because of carelessness. Why not go back and have it rectified, you say? Would you trust the same apathetic nonce to cut your hair again after complaining about the first attempt? Thought not. Besides, before I could do much about it, the flood came and wiped out all connecting roads to this place. The road west, destroyed in a landslide. The roads east swallowed by the river. Now that the water is finally starting to recede, it is looking like the roads leading to one crossing might have been largely swept away by the swollen river too, and the other possibly suffering structural damage which might render it inoperable as well.

The only way out of here now is north, and then south, a ten minute trip now possibly taking five hours and several hundred kilometres instead. So, to hell with it. Bunkering down is a thing. Maybe I’ll tunnel my way to somewhere useful instead? Maybe I’ll buy a hovercraft, or should I go with the scrapheap challenge approach and build one instead? No, wait. That would require some kind of talent, something which I appear to be devoid of. Such is life.

Here’s a parrot in a hat. Again, because.