[ The moment is a slice of ordinary for him, as ordinary as ordinary can be... these days, anyway. Philip walks down to the beach, just a walk. Even Faraday's upstairs, sleeping, small miracle she ever gets enough of the grass and sand underneath her paws, but every once in a while she tires of running. And Philip keeps walking.
And there she is, a woman with a face like a traffic light. Deer in the headlights, well, perhaps that as well, but above all the expression is a signal, it has become that as inevitably as answering a ringing phone, a knock on the door, as rising with the sound of the alarm.
It's Pavlov's dog, but without the bell and a brochure instead. Ding dong, she looks lost. Philip approaches, and holds the pamphlet out towards her. His smile is apologetic. Wonderland won't be. ]
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And there she is, a woman with a face like a traffic light. Deer in the headlights, well, perhaps that as well, but above all the expression is a signal, it has become that as inevitably as answering a ringing phone, a knock on the door, as rising with the sound of the alarm.
It's Pavlov's dog, but without the bell and a brochure instead. Ding dong, she looks lost. Philip approaches, and holds the pamphlet out towards her. His smile is apologetic. Wonderland won't be. ]