fishing

Plain Jane Phyllis Klondike Phox suddenly found herself not with the widows. In Plain Jane (sim) she was now, in the middle of some kind of pandemic, she sensed, disinfectors all around. The present, in other words. The nearest one spoke to her, holding out his hands. “Now, now, I’ll handle this.” Phyllis moves forward toward him…

… only to find herself somewhere else once more: in a boat with a blanket on a cool summer day, freshly baited rod in front of her.

On a coffee break in a nearby gardening shed, not-so-plain June Bug sensed the manifestation happen. “Another Plain Jane,” she groused, looking up at it. “Nancy Kulp should have never opened that can of worms in front of Jed.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0512, Ashenlave, Corsica^^, Egg Hill Sink, Henrietta

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