Lucy was walking along Church Street, the umbrella fiercely in her hand. What she wanted most was a beer. She looked around, but couldn't find any pub. Just houses and gardens. Three streets beyond St.Michael's she saw one. At last! With a happy smile now, she entered the pub.
Better that than the bloody cup of tea with the bloody visitor.
Or not.
Maybe running away wasn't the smartest idea of the day.
She changed her mind with the second beer and with the third she smiled sillily.
Next morning she was a few pounds poorer, had a blinding hangover and a god-awful note from the visitor.
"Sorry, maybe I got the day wrong. We'll try another day."
When the adventurer returned to society, people seemed stranger than the aborigens he met on the way. But quickly the stupidity of that nonsense annoyed him. And he ran away. To the familiar unknown lands.
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