Roz was out in the fields, loading hay bales onto the flatbed truck, as towering, puffy clouds rose up from the south. Raindrops lightly tapped against her body and she thought nothing of it. The wind began to blow, and still the robot continued with her work. It wasn’t until the first flash of lightning that Roz finally called it quits.
I first wanted to go for today’s date but neither 211 nor 112 held anything funny. So I let Random.org pick, it decided on page 7.
‘We could share with Toby and Fergus…’ I suggested. ‘Between four, it’d be, uh… a hundred and something.’
‘Only?’ wailed Chloe. ‘Anyway, we can’t share a caravan with Tobe and Ferg. They would, like, see us in our pants and, even worse, we would see them in their pants.’