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Saturday October 28th 2017Tim Candler9

 

     As a general rule a royal personage comes in two basic categories. The one variety knows everything there is to be known and there's nothing anyone can do about it. The other variety is vaguely aware that knowledge, like a picnic lunch, is something of a moving feast. Saeed bin Saeed, being a fossil hunter of high repute, fell into the latter category. And when the Industrial Magnet's representative advised him that the railway line through Saint Barbara would require several tunnels Saeed perked up a little bit, he finished his hard boiled egg, dabbed his mouth with his napkin and he casually asked the Industrial Magnet's representative whether the railway company planned to dig a tunnel anywhere near the cave in which a young Barbarian claimed he'd seen fossilized dinosaur bones. The Industrial Magnet's representative went on a bit about tunnels being expensive and how railway line builders didn't just go around putting tunnels in willy-nilly, but being a man of influence and given a little encouragement he himself could look into the possibilities and come up with a solution to the problem of a prince's desire to personally discover fossilized dinosaur bones without entering a foul smelling, bat infested cave and without too much assistance from his entourage and no credit at all being given to some little foreign boy. Saeed nodded wisely, and he offered the Industrial Magnet's representative the last chocolate and date macaroon from the tray of desserts.

 

Past

     Saeed's seamstresses had never really felt that carting picnic lunch hampers around in the heat of the day was a part of their job description. They'd had to put up with it because apparently it was a traditional seamstress roll to traipse around carrying cutlery, china plates, napkins and foodstuffs through incredibly inclement conditions. It wasn't so bad back home, which was mostly sand, the odd palm tree, seaside and cool ocean breezes, but Saint Barbara was a whole new set of environmental fish, not to mention the blood sucking insects, creatures that slithered and vast numbers of bats issuing from the mouths of caves. Nor had it escaped their attention that the local female Barbarians never had to do things like carrying heavily laden picnic hampers around for male Barbarians. Indeed male Barbarians when they left their rude dwellings to go off and do boy stuff like fishing or weeding their vegetable gardens had to damn well go home if they wanted to eat anything. Saeed's cook and his oaf were increasingly aware of this rumbling amongst the seamstresses, and it just seemed to both of them that the sooner this whole overseas travel thing came to end and everyone went home to the civilization of Oman the better for everyone. Saeed's oaf, who traditionally got the last chocolate and date macaroon, agreed that in the interest of common sense and reason something dramatic had to be done. And for anyone who might still be concentrating, please note the correct spelling of desserts.

 

 

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