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The Thirty Days of Magrat (part twelve)

Magrat had a chance to demonstrate this supposed ‘edge’ a couple of days later when Maisie had insisted the teenager join her in helping with one of the head nurse’s new duties at the school.

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The Thirty Days of Magrat (part eleven)

Magrat was unusually quiet for the rest of the morning, so much so that Maisie spoke to Doctor Troy about it when she returned from her own rounds at midday. At lunch, Maisie hung the ‘At Lunch’ sign on the clinic’s main door and the doctor took Magrat into the vacant treatment room where they sat next to each other with the treatment room table once again doubling as a dining table.

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The Thirty Days of Magrat (part ten)

Amy froze for a moment and then slowly released Magrat. She sank back onto the bed, pushing herself backwards while staring at Magrat with eyes that had seen, and were now remembering, too much.

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The Thirty Days of Magrat (part nine)

If Magrat had been expecting a dark and dingy sick ward packed with groaning and sighing people close to death, then we can hope that she would have been pleasantly surprised by what greeted her as she and the head nurse stepped away from the top of the stairs.

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The Thirty Days of Magrat (part eight)

Once Magrat’s breathing had returned to normal and she could unclench her fingers, Maisie went through notes of the people they were going to see with her. Some of the cases, most in fact, were what any medically trained person would call business as usual. A couple of them, however, even when couched in sanitised medical terminology, showed a disturbing story in the patient’s recent past.

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The Thirty Days of Magrat (part seven)

“Seriously? This is what you want me to wear?”

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The Thirty Days of Magrat (part six)

Seeing any more patients now, with all the glass on the floor, was out of the question. Maisie had no choice but to go through to the waiting room and, after jokingly checking none of the four people there was dying, she asked everyone to come back in the afternoon.

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The Thirty days of Magrat (part five)

Magrat returned to the treatment room followed by the man who had been sitting next to Evan Stanton. He was walking slowly and holding his side in apparent discomfort. She directed him to sit on the vacant chair and he did so slowly, grimacing all the while. Magrat passed a handful of patients’ folders to Maisie.

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The Thirty Days of Magrat (part four)

Magrat returned with the bandaged boy from the waiting room. Maisie wasted no time on pleasantries but got down to business by pointing to the chair recently vacated by Winnie Barrow.

“Sit.”

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The Thirty Days of Magrat (part three)

Maisie watched Magrat help Winnie out of her loose-fitting jacket and then the equally loose-fitting man’s shirt she wore underneath. The girl’s care and gentleness were immediately apparent but Maisie was tensely poised to take over, just in case.

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The Thirty Days Of Magrat (part two)

Magrat held the mop awkwardly. Back in the camp, there wasn’t much call for mops. Lots of mud and grass but not many floors.

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The Thirty Days of Magrat

Magrat shared a hard stare with her nemesis. Her nemesis, however, chose to stare back, but with the added weight of years of giving unrepressed attitude, it was Magrat who blinked first.

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Magrat

The knocking only stopped when Tuki, still holding a slice of toast, opened the front door. It was Jonas Barret.

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Of Nannies and Nurses

It was early morning, that happy time just before the first patients of the day started to arrive. Dr. Tukiko Troy and Nurse Maisie were in the treatment room. It was especially happy because just for today, Tukiko would be entrusting the care of the Devil’s Own northern camp to another. This was to be a trial and Tuki was crossing everything that it would be a success.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 75)

Even before the cataclysmic event known as ‘The Fall’, military trucks had long been built along the lines of robustness, reliability and cost effectiveness. Comfort was never much of a factor back then and the intervening hundreds of years has done absolutely nothing to change this.

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Halloween fantasy (part 74)

Bodil and Victor left Lieutenant Hawthorn’s office some minutes later. They walked through the maze of busy corridors in silence for a few seconds before Victor spoke.

“I think that went quite well.”

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Halloween Fantasy (part 73)

“Sorry… What?”

Lieutenant Hawthorn stared across his cluttered desk at Victor and Professor Hill, not quite sure if they were pranking him or not.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 72)

There was already an air of despondency in the room when Ellie walked in, accompanied by a much recovered and way much happier Gregor. She sat, or maybe collapsed, into a one of the seats around the large table.

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Halloween Fantasy (part 71)

Arno had only ever spoken with her once before, just over a year ago in fact, on his first day after joining the Troy household as a fourteen-year-old and was being shown around by Claud, the major-domo. Of course, she hadn’t been called Miss Ellie then, she had been called Miss Kathryn.

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Who Is..?

A collaboration between Hyle & Joe to list all the created characters of our collective writings. We have created a circle of characters who interact and enrich our stories together, so this is a kind of Wiki to our world within FE.

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Joe's New Portrait

Joe had been standing by the curtains like an anxious teenager waiting for the postman. Now, whether this was for a letter from some girlfriend or the results from the clap clinic didn't matter because Joe's teenage years were a long way behind him. But the level of anxiety/nervous expectancy was about the same, which is the point.

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This Morning in Hope Springs

‘I remember the butterflies. I remember YOU.’

He looked at the words he had just written, the latest that now covered several pages of the old notebook he kept in his toolbox.

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Nine (part 14)

Normally, the caterers at such events got to take home anything left over. That wasn't going to happen today. It took the four orphans of the apocalypse, ably aided and abetted by a very eager four-year-old, less than twenty minutes to reduce the carefully crafted party food to crumbs and the caterers to tears.

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Nine (part 13)

Joe’s face set into one of someone listening to their great aunt Betty telling him everything that has happened to her this week. Eventually there was a gap when Tuki paused for breath and Joe jumped into it.

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Nine (part 12)

Everyone peered in as Finny’s fingers pulled off the wrapping paper to reveal a small, felt covered box. Inside was a mound of shiny white metal which uncurled into a long silver chain when Finny gently lifted it high so that all could see. At the end of the shiny chain was a silver ring.

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Nine (part 11)

When Finny crossed the threshold into Joe’s entrance hall she was not expecting the explosion of noise that greeted them and tried to hurriedly turn and flee. Along with the noise-makers, and party poppers exploding their coloured streams around her, shouts of; “Surprise!” And “Happy Birthday!” added to the confusion. Then Joe had his hands on her shoulders, turning her back around and preventing her ducking around him.

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Nine (part 10)

Joe, beer in hand, turned to look at Finny.

“What do you mean?”

Finny swivelled on the seat so that she was facing him.

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Nine (part 9)

The car carried on down Humphreys and turned right onto Coconino Avenue. Passing the building where the Ranyhyn Company had its offices, Joe swung right and they were back on the square. Joe drove slowly through the crowd and eventually pulled up outside the shaft down to Rowdy’s Bar.

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Nine (part 8)

Where Joe was taking her next was Humphreys Street. The car pulled up outside Moise’s Pawn & Jewellery, and Finny followed Joe inside. Unlike Aunty Wainwright’s, the pawn shop was no larger on the inside than the outside suggested. Once inside, however, the space was made even smaller by the stout steel cages that prevented customers doing anything more than looking at the goods in the various display cases.

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Nine (part 7)

Aunty Wainwright’s was a junk shop. No, let’s get it right. Aunty Wainwright’s was a junk emporium. The premises was on Santa Fe and directly across the road from City Hall. To the casual observer in the street it looked just like any other small shop, but cross its threshold and you found yourself in a multi-storey maze of every conceivable item that had ever been scavenged, repaired, reused or built by hand with love but not much skill.

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by Dr. Radut