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Book - stolen for everyone
Friday, 29 June 2007 08:12 pmA response to a post from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mouse262_2
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4-7 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
My first attempt was to grab the nearest readable thing - a coy of New Scientist, but it only has 96 pages. It turns out that the nearest book is looked away in my bookcase, and not one that I ever finished. It is:
David Brin, Brightness Reef.
Perhaps other traeki would send new basal segments for the locals to wear, making them better suited for evacuation inland. At worst, the swamp traeki could get rotting matter, settle on top, and shut down higher functions till the world became a less scary place.
The same could not be said for an urrish trade caravan they passed later, stranded with their pack beasts on the desolate west bank, when the panicky citizens of Bing village blew up their beloved bridge.
The hoonish boat crew back-pedaled with frantic haste, rowing against the current to avoid getting caught in a tangle of broken timbers and mulc-fiber cables, shattered remnants of a beautiful span that had been the chief traverse for an entire region. A marvel of clever camouflage, the bridge used to resemble a jagged snag of jumbled logs.
mouse262_21. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4-7 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
My first attempt was to grab the nearest readable thing - a coy of New Scientist, but it only has 96 pages. It turns out that the nearest book is looked away in my bookcase, and not one that I ever finished. It is:
David Brin, Brightness Reef.
Perhaps other traeki would send new basal segments for the locals to wear, making them better suited for evacuation inland. At worst, the swamp traeki could get rotting matter, settle on top, and shut down higher functions till the world became a less scary place.
The same could not be said for an urrish trade caravan they passed later, stranded with their pack beasts on the desolate west bank, when the panicky citizens of Bing village blew up their beloved bridge.
The hoonish boat crew back-pedaled with frantic haste, rowing against the current to avoid getting caught in a tangle of broken timbers and mulc-fiber cables, shattered remnants of a beautiful span that had been the chief traverse for an entire region. A marvel of clever camouflage, the bridge used to resemble a jagged snag of jumbled logs.
