Hard as Brick

DPD: Moonβ; 1915>1865< 3100BC Knot rocket Surgery pinker ton rabbit stole. 

Sometimes earth is hard as brick… and soft as quicksand is when you’re getting a loan.  Pandora looked at Henry.  The moon is a harsh mistress.  The sky is made of stone.  Pandora gets to the point.  That’s why we call you Punta.  Robot, growled Thabo.  Nothing but a robot trained to do tricks like a monkey, and the organ-grinder man is some pooh-bah in a suit that now comes from China! 

You guessed her, child molester cackled Chaska the cigar-store Indian.  Have a plug of some wacky tobacco without the dialect.  Aye, but your brogue tells us who you are… they changed (born to reign) to (long to reign).  That’s evolutionary!   Close (says Henry). No cigar.

Daisy stayed with the plantation until the war was over, her main concern being her partners and coworkers on the farm. A few were planning to give up their stakes and move to the north thinking the south would never be a comfortable place to be. The majority trusted the arrangements they had with Daisy and the farm was their home, a communal life with loved ones.

She took a well-stocked wagon and a hired escort with guns and headed for Savannah for an extended stay and a proximity to the Atlantic. The Georgia-Carolina Plantations Co-operative was fairly new and barely trusted along with everything else that came out of the war.

King George couldn’t catch us to save his ass, and the Kaiser was no wiser.  The Yankee warships were something to be feared.  But we was not a-feared.  Nope.  We had the lion in his den by the beard.  Escape to the provinces worked for a while, like it did during the days of the Roman Republic.  Henry was afraid Daisy (Miss Marie LaCroix) would be tempted by eternal youth.

Henry hung her portrait (he manufactured from memory) in the con to show her she had no secrets.  Nothing to hide.  Henry’s hide was nearly fried by the flaming lash of ice cold Coca-Cola afterburner- the hardhearted Georgia peach.  Henry stood for the rest of the voyage. Only the pathetic CSA navy was weaker than Henry’s knees. That peach had the advantage of reach, beach and bubbles. Supercavitation.

Daisy made the best of suiting herself to a few new dresses of finery and a few more for purposeful daily work she preferred around her own farm. As she strolled down Bay Street, posing to meet her hostess from Wormsloe at their agreed upon meeting place, she saw him. Henry on horseback in full regalia, unaware of her being in the vicinity.

She stopped where she was, staring after him, heart on fire. She closed the sun shade parasol and made her way down the boardwalk in a fast, but ladylike stride toward the same direction until he was too far to follow. Abandoning her chase, she returned to meet her hostess, and begged to return to Wormsloe for a rest, signaling no alarm as to her actual intentions.

Two hours prior to sunset, George had found a ferryman and they cruised the Savannah river once more, Daisy in a new work dress and he in farm attire. It was just prior to sunset when they located the Dart. Minutes later they were over Japan. Henry needed to show them something and it

was on him.

!!!