"Travel light, but take everything with you."
It took her a moment to try and work out whether it was meant as a philosphical proposition or actually practical advice. Not that it felt paticularly practical.
Still. One easy solution. "What are you on about now?"
Effective, too. "Everything you need. I don't want to have to use a phrase book to work out how to ask for...what do you always forget?"
"Nothing. Clearly. Or you'd remember. You may well have learnt the lingo for it, if there was just one thing..."
"Sunglasses. You always lose them."
"Ah, well, that's different." She stopped packing. "Because if I lose them then I have them in the first place, which, of course, means that I packed them, which means that..." She stopped talking, too.
"Lost your thread?"
"But I had it in the first place!"
He smiled indulgently, before apparently coming to the next item on his mental list. "Toothpaste."
"Toothpaste is obviously packaged."
"That wasn't toothpaste. That...nondescript tube. With the...yes."
"Mmm. Fun, though." She grinned impishly. "Why don't you stop thinking, and start enjoying?"
"If that's the case, I don't see why we should bring anything. Let's just...have an adventure."
He'd regret those words - either she couldn't tell when he was joking, or she chose to ignore it.
He supposed he didn't really mind.
Ladygirl of a British persuasion; sometimes I actually write stories that aren't depressing (but not very often)
I write for the http://jupiter-palladium.com, which is a webcomic about superheroes. Interesting ones. Cute ones, too. Which is nice. (It's cheerier than most things I write. That's where the happy goes, guys.)
Travel light, but take everything with you.