If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, [ he intones, though there is a curious thread on the uplift of it, equal parts needling joke and boyhood lesson. In the background: a burst of a car-horn, fragments of angry Spanish from the middle-aged cab driver. Bond exhales, annoyed, like some cosmic mirror of M's own struggle.
There is, of course, a small multitude of things he could infer from the fact that it is M calling him directly. None of those possibilities feel particularly life-threatening, however, so he skips a reference point or two in favor of: ]
I do hope you're not asking me to RSVP to that Christmas party.
no subject
There is, of course, a small multitude of things he could infer from the fact that it is M calling him directly. None of those possibilities feel particularly life-threatening, however, so he skips a reference point or two in favor of: ]
I do hope you're not asking me to RSVP to that Christmas party.