Amelia

“Where is she,” I stuttered, as I crawled in and literally crashed into Bill’s office.

“My dear chap, are you alright?’ Bill drawled, lazily.

“You do not look good. Were you in an accident?” he queried.

“You know, we were out of Clean-X again, ” he interjected, happy to get the foremost thought in his mind off his chest.

“I knew something weird was happening. I think Bob is crazy about Jill, and always forgets to pack enough. You know, old chap, you really need to come with us next time to Ensenada. Amelia misses you, of course,” he eyed me with disquiet.

“I have it!” he clapped his hands triumphantly, as he about turned to the other matter foremost on his mind.  “You could fly us there, and we will not have to put up with Bob,” he said, enthusiastically, pleased with himself for having solved the problem foremost in his mind.

“You know old chap, my good chap, are you alright?” he asked anxiously. “You really don’t look well. Have you been to see a doctor?” he laughed.

“I mean not me, of course”, he laughed again, loudly, enjoying his joke.

I collapsed, unable to say a word. I opened my lips to speak, but heard nothing.

Crazy Bill, as usual, was ranting off in his British accent.

Where the devil was my Amelia?

See also:

Nanowrimo