【Interlude】S01E02.5 ……
『千万读者首选：音凉阅读』【书迷的最爱：半味书屋】January 29th, 1980, Tuesday | London-wall, Night Sleeper Train | Overcast, light st
Today was busier than usual.
I was occupied with cross-refereng the list of local liaison officers, firng travel and aodatioails, and king the final preparations for the Minister''''s trip to wall.
As the Minister had an evening e, we had to take the night sleeper froPaddington to Penzao ensure we would arrive at Newlyn Harbour before the fishern''''s senar began the
I packed the background terials on wall, the two draft speeches, and the list of ergency tacts into the briefcase—the Minister wished to read theorain—and double-checked every detail.
The DLO isestablished at last week''''s IDISLM had received initial feedback frothe various departnts, which I had assistaary suarise. After a final review, I took the file and knocked on Sir''''s office door.
He was still at his desk, several dots spread before hi the erald ring on the fourth finger of his left hand glinting in the dilight.
After I had pleted oral briefing on the DLO feedback, Sir asked if I had any new observatiarding wall.
I reported on the day''''s preparatory progress aiohat during a call with the local liaison, he had hat the Tourist Board had had so "inforl unications" with the ty cil regarding the use of the harbour breakwater for the festival, though the specifics were unclear. I had thought this was just a routine update, but Sir tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharpening.
"Very good, Cyril." He picked up his fountain pen and, in the rgin of a report beside hi wrote a few words. I wasn''''t sure what it ant, but intuition told it was not a randonote.
In the evening, I boarded the night sleeper to Penzah the Minister.
I first apahe Mio his partnt and laid out the background terials fro briefcase.
It was late, but the Minister seed to be in good spirits. He read through the dots while chatting with about the history of wall, all the way to a peculiar local dish called "Stargazy Pie."
"They poke the fish heads through the crust, as if they''''re gazing at the stars. Very iginative, isn''''t it? A kind of poetry in despair," was the Minister''''s assessnt.
I felt he was, in his own unique way, steeling hielf against the ing pressure.
The night was exceptionally dark. I hope wall is not colder than London torrow.
Today was busier than usual.
I was occupied with cross-refereng the list of local liaison officers, firng travel and aodatioails, and king the final preparations for the Minister''''s trip to wall.
As the Minister had an evening e, we had to take the night sleeper froPaddington to Penzao ensure we would arrive at Newlyn Harbour before the fishern''''s senar began the
I packed the background terials on wall, the two draft speeches, and the list of ergency tacts into the briefcase—the Minister wished to read theorain—and double-checked every detail.
The DLO isestablished at last week''''s IDISLM had received initial feedback frothe various departnts, which I had assistaary suarise. After a final review, I took the file and knocked on Sir''''s office door.
He was still at his desk, several dots spread before hi the erald ring on the fourth finger of his left hand glinting in the dilight.
After I had pleted oral briefing on the DLO feedback, Sir asked if I had any new observatiarding wall.
I reported on the day''''s preparatory progress aiohat during a call with the local liaison, he had hat the Tourist Board had had so "inforl unications" with the ty cil regarding the use of the harbour breakwater for the festival, though the specifics were unclear. I had thought this was just a routine update, but Sir tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharpening.
"Very good, Cyril." He picked up his fountain pen and, in the rgin of a report beside hi wrote a few words. I wasn''''t sure what it ant, but intuition told it was not a randonote.
In the evening, I boarded the night sleeper to Penzah the Minister.
I first apahe Mio his partnt and laid out the background terials fro briefcase.
It was late, but the Minister seed to be in good spirits. He read through the dots while chatting with about the history of wall, all the way to a peculiar local dish called "Stargazy Pie."
"They poke the fish heads through the crust, as if they''''re gazing at the stars. Very iginative, isn''''t it? A kind of poetry in despair," was the Minister''''s assessnt.
I felt he was, in his own unique way, steeling hielf against the ing pressure.
The night was exceptionally dark. I hope wall is not colder than London torrow.