Fathoming the Pyramid
Timothy Granville
Robin raised his eyes to the encrusted ceiling. In the gloom it took him half a second to realise what he was staring at.
“Bit OTT?” asked Georgie.
“I like it. I think.”
“Good. I think I like it too.”
They were standing at one end of a small room with a red and white chessboard floor. The light filtering through the narrow windows overhead revealed the walls and domed ceiling were covered in shells, masses of bivalves foaming around huge conches and cones.
“It could be awful, couldn’t it?” said Georgie. “Like some monstrous suburban garden feature. But actually…”
“Bit OTT?” asked Georgie.
“I like it. I think.”
“Good. I think I like it too.”
They were standing at one end of a small room with a red and white chessboard floor. The light filtering through the narrow windows overhead revealed the walls and domed ceiling were covered in shells, masses of bivalves foaming around huge conches and cones.
“It could be awful, couldn’t it?” said Georgie. “Like some monstrous suburban garden feature. But actually…”
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