“I lead a hard life,” the Castle Bard sighed.
“Hmm,” said the princess. Ordinarily, she would have responded more articulately, but she was in the middle of trying to twist her hair into a neat bun and was only half-succeeding. It was twisting, but it was not neat.
He looked at the back of her head reproachfully. “I slave for your father the king, I suffer for my art, I work myself to a shadow, and you only say ‘hmm’. Is that kind?”
The princess released her hair and took her hairpins out of her mouth. “Would you really say you slave?” she inquired. “I can’t quite imagine Father demanding that you work without pause. Slaves do work without pause, don’t they?”
“I didn’t say I am a slave, I said that I do slave,” the Bard corrected. “I think they pause sometimes, if only to eat.”
* * *
Ethel hit "pause" on the Tivo and pushed herself up from the sofa.
On the way to the kitchen to get another bag of chips, the Bard's words hit her. "Oh God," she thought, "I'm . . . I'm a slave to afternoon TV!"
Opening: Rachel.....Continuation: Anon.