Out of the Chocolate Box (56)

Driver picked her crowded teeth with the end of a paper clip.
We sat at the bridge of the “Storm”, a small craft, but we did nothing, and the computer did everything: Navigation, piloting, maintenance—you name it, the machine did it, even serving tea and coffee.
‘I suppose a hundred years has passed back there,’ I said.
‘Oh, no my dear, nothing like that! Time doesn’t pass that quickly.’ Driver corrected. ‘Only a few months really.’

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Out of the Chocolate Box (55)

I nodded silently hot tears welling in my eyes. The shame of my disgrace and the possibility of perhaps never seeing anyone I knew again, except perhaps Driver, had set in.

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Out of the Chocolate Box (29)

Günter chuckled. ‘You won’t be eating melons again.’
‘It wasn’t the melon—I was spooked. That house is haunted.’
‘Rubbish, there are no such things as ghosts. You ate the melon and you got sick.’ Günter shook the fry pan, rolling the sausages from one side to the other. ‘Admit it, Miss Mueller.’
‘No, that house I went into—that made me sick.’
‘No, you must have eaten some melon.’
‘But you said it was deadly,’ I said. ‘How come I’m still alive?’

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Lost World of the Wends (50)

Dan groaned, ‘I think I’m going to barf.’ He cupped his hand over his chin.
‘Sorry, mate, try not to. Look, I have to get out and find help,’ Arthur said. He wished Dan was well enough to accompany him. But for some reason, the so-called space travel had drained Dan’s physical resources more than his own. He studied the rest of the travellers. They’d been stuck in this bus longer than he had and so were weaker from dehydration and lack of food. It was up to him. Arthur kicked the window again. His foot slipped on the glass.

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