O’Connor’s office overlooked the factory.
‘Keep out of sight on Christmas Eve, or he’ll have ya doing something that’ll take all night.’
The advice echoed in my mind.
Grab tools and sneak into the service shaft, that way you have an excuse for being down there, I thought.
Someone else must’ve had the same idea.
‘Jesus, a loincloth! …how long have you been hiding out?’
‘bout two thousand years -say nothing, I’m on the doss.’
An Roinn Ultra - Irish Science Fiction 