“Sit At Your Desk And Listen.” – Franz Kafka
I hear Brian playing Skyrim, the soft, vaguely celtic music providing ambience. Anna’s cleaning herself in the front windows, licking furiously and likely pulling out fur. Junior snorted contentedly as he sleeps in his puppy bed. The fridge motor is humming away as it cools the food. The dog on Skyrim barks randomly. Brian presses buttons on his controller, probably scrolling through a list. The sound of blacksmithing comes back.
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