Ficly

An Almost True Story

“Hi there, I’m Dr McAuley,” I informed the mirror with my best wry smile, my australian leather hat tilted rakishly forward. “I hear you need help with your Early English columns mouldings.”
I shifted, hands on hips and a grave expression. “I’m Dr McAuley and I’m afraid I can’t let you do this. Those wall paintings are a unique example of Norman chapel decoration.”
I folded my arms and tried to look casually in command. “Good morning, you rag-tag band of wastrels. I’m Dr McAuley and today I’m going to tell you about medieval roof structures in more detail than you will ever need or want to know.”
I waggled an arm at the wall behind me, mentally transformed into some ruin, and grinned. “Welcome to our series on the forgotten ruins of Great Britain. I’m Dr McAuley and I’ll be your guide through several hedgerows, 3 quarries and one ostrich farm in our hunt for overlooked piles of stone.”
I sighed and slumped back into my chair, staring at the computer screen. My PhD application stared back, still unfinished.

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