Don't Say it Again

The debacle of the blue dust coming to life when the incantation is read strangely continues. It really shouldn't, because we should have learnt what happens and certainly not want it to happen again. The professor, however, is apparently absent of mind, and wants to 'read the other bit'.

'There is no other bit', I say, fairly confident in my assertion, having spent well over an hour trying to translate the few words on the paper.

'Yes there is. The other part is written in pen, instead of the part written in pencil.'

'The part written in pen is what you wrote. It's in your handwriting. It's also what you just said.' Professor, my arse. 'Give me the bit of paper.'

'Okay. Just let me write down what's on it first', says the professor, taking out his pen.

I go to slap the pen out of his hand and try to grab the paper. 'No! I want it precisely so that you won't have a copy of those words. I just know you're going to want to say them again.' Which, of course, is why he tried to make a copy.

We wrestle and, because he's an old man, I manage to take the paper away from him to keep it, and all of us, safe. At least, for now.

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