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Author: langbot
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English[en]
“I’d like to get some food to them – to keep them going till relief comes. If it comes. Any ideas?” I expected that Paul would think this a dangerous, if not impossible, task to achieve. But, no. His response was as quick as it was matter-of-fact: “There’s a truck parked just to the North of the cemetery in Lygon Street, a refrigerated truck like they use to make deliveries to supermarkets. I saw it on the afternoon of day two, just before everything went black for me. The diesel engine was still idling at the time and the refrigeration unit was still running. No sign of any driver. The truck might still be there.” Amazing. “And full of food?” I asked. “Probably. I didn’t bother to check inside. Charles and I had already raided the gate-keeper’s house. We didn’t need more food at that time – and it wasn’t worth the risk of exposing ourselves by going out in the open. However, as you can see, I made a mental note of the vehicle for future reference.” “Will you come with me and David to check it out?” “Fuck off!” said Paul. “You don’t need me and, even if you did, I’m not yet that hungry.” There was nothing more to be said. I called out to David. He didn’t come. I needed to go inside to arouse him from his afternoon torpor. (Yes, I did kick him and, yes, he did complain loudly.) “Come on, Dave. We’ve got work to do.”
Cornish[kw]
“My a garsa kavoes nebes boes ragdha – rag aga skoedhya bys pan dheu difresyans. Mar teu ev. Eus tybyansow dhiso jy?” My re waytsa Powl dhe grysi bos hemma oberenn peryllus - ma na ve anpossybyl yn tien bos gwrys. Byttegyns, nyns o hemma y gryjyans mann. Y worthyp ev o uskis ha heb trynn: “Yma kert kevelsys parkyes a-gledhbarth an ynkleudhva yn Stret Lygon, kert- yeynell kepar dell yw usyes rag doen proviansow dhe’n gorvarghasow. My a’n welas dohajydh an nessa dydh, kyns dhe dhos an duder oll dhe’m brys. Yth esa hwath owth oberi yn lent an jynn disel y’n tor’ na. Nyns esa sin vyth a’y lywyer. Possybyl yw an kert dhe vos ena hwath.” Ass o hemma marthek. “Ha lenwys gans boes?” a wovynnis vy. “Gwirhaval yw. Ny omdroblis vy rag mires a-bervedh. My ha Charles re omsettsa seulabrys war ji porther. Nyns esa edhomm a voes moy y’n termyn na – ha ny dela an peryll dhe omdhiskwedhes yn apert. Byttegyns, dell yllydh gweles, my a notyas y’m brys presens a’n kert ma rag gul devnydh possybyl anodho y’n termyn a dho. “A vynnydh dos genev ha Davydh rag mires orto?” “Ke dhe-ves!” yn-medh Powl. “Nyns eus edhomm vyth dhywgh ahanan ha, mars esa edhomm yn hwir, ny vien hwath nownek lowr rag henna.” Nyns esa travyth moy bos leverys. My a elwis dhe Dhavydh. Ny dheuth ev. Res o dhymm entras a-bervedh rag y waya dhiworth marder y dhohajydh. (Ya, my a wrug y botya ha, ya, ev a wrug krodhvolas yn ughel.) “Deun yn-rag, ‘Dhav. Yma res dhyn a wul oberenn.”