Small World

The steamwagon puffed, hooted, and clicked to a halt. Nigel’s foot tapped expectantly as the door finally hissed open.

“William, if I weren’t in such a hurry, I’d have your head!”

He settled onto a cushion, then prodded his cane through the round view to the driving compartment into the driver’s shoulder, making the man squirm.

“Drive damnit! Go! We’ve not a moment to lose!”

The wagon jolted forward.

“And then I’d fire you,” Nigel added under his breath.

Halfway to the council building, Nigel elected to reopen his conversation at the driver.

“I must ask, William, why the devil it took you a quarter hour to start up this wagon, and twice that to find you in the first place? If I am to retain your services, I cannot have such irresponsibility. It’s downright dastardly!”

William’s brow knotted and he winced as Nigel prodded him for an answer.

“Well you see sir, I was taking my repast, and my friend saw if I could fix his… sink. I was late because, sir, well, y’see, Jerry only brought one wrench, sir.”

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