Got a postcard from mum today. She's busy doing a tour of obscure Eastern European countries. You'd think she'd be able to choose a country where they spoke a language of Indo-European (or at least Ural-Altaic) derivation, but no. She just has to be different.
The city she's writing from is called 'Ljubljana'. Far too many consonants in that name for my liking. Never trust a city that has fewer vowels than it has consonants; you just don't know who you'll run into.
Of course, last time Mum went overseas, she was going to Russia. I asked her, very specifically, to get photographs of Soviet triumphalist architecture. I have quite a thing for gigantic cubes made out of crumbling concrete. She ignored me. All I ever got was pictures of the Hermitage, St Peters, and the Hotel Kosmos. Then again, she did get a picture of some Russian bums begging in the park, so her trip wasn't entirely wasted.
She ends her postcard:
Have been trying to buy a brolley but am assured rain will disappear tomorrow.
While she's about it, she'd probably better get some vowels. Where she's going, they'll be in pretty short supply.
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