It’s been weeks and we still have had no word of Ernest.
Indeed, I returned to work hoping for some sort of relief but James is also in a desperate state. Sushi is distant with him lately, and while I have asked Grapes what could possibly be the matter, she just shakes her head dramatically and reminds me that we are speaking of Sushi. Old habits die hard.
I immediately understood. But how does one relate such knowledge to one’s best friend?
Life is difficult. I’ll be flying out to the Caribbean in search of our dear paper bag this Monday. Although, I am concerned about leaving Grapes in such a vulnerable state on Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. Poor girl – she has a severe case of Lincolnphobia.
I did some research and it turns out there’s a recycling plant on a remote nameless little island. I do hope Ernest didn’t end up there.
