See my ears? I’m annoyed. And now I forgot what I was going to say, human. It was important, too. I don’t say things that aren’t.
I’m sorry, Abishag. I thought you’d finished your sentence. I guess you were thinking.
Hmph. Impatient humans. Hurry, hurry, hurry. How am I going to win the Nobel Prize for Literature if you keep rushing me?
Good Heavens. Is that all you want?
It’s a start.
Thought readers might enjoy a bit of nostalgia, or something from the past. Abishag could be acerbic, too.
Out here we call it getting the stink eye. Whatever. The message is clear.
Too true – Abishag had mastered the art of the stink eye! She could literally roast you with a glance.