It wasn’t the most important factor of the day, or the most obscure event that took place, but it was the first thing that Clarrise noticed when she woke up and it was, she decided after some thought, a sign that things were about to go wrong.
She was right, and sitting in her lounge at three o’clock she congratulated herself on just how right she had been. The gunman who was waving his pistol far too close to her face failed to see how this was amusing, but after three hundred and sixty one years you had to see the funny side of these things.
She found the sound his wrist made especially humorous when she snapped it backwards and sent the gun clattering to the ground. The accomplice screamed more loudly, more shrilling, the sound rattling against her ear drums in a annoying fashion that had her ending him quicker than she would have liked.
She called Fred.
‘Do try harder darling,’ she sighed.