So here I am clutching two ticks wrapped in a tissue, and I don't know what to do. I'm not dressed respectably enough to leave the bedroom, since I've just got out of bed.
I can't think how I can put more clothes on without risk. If I put the tissue down, the ticks will fight their way out and escape into the bedroom. And then they might go anywhere they like. I could pull on some clothes with one hand, but I need to give those ticks my full attention.
That's why I'm pacing up and down.
Soon I will be rescued, when Allan gets out of the shower. He will take the tissue-wrapped ticks to Colin in his office. Colin will look at the ticks and remark that they are very small. He will also remark that it is lucky for me that they are whole, as I am less likely to be infected by broken tick parts left behind. He will then proceed to kill them by stabbing at them with a biro.
At the time I felt this was a happy outcome. But having reached a state of equanimity I am beginning to feel sorry for the ticks. Tomorrow I will make it up to them.
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