Originally Posted: Jun. 2nd, 2008
Length/Rating: 100 words, PG
Pairing/Warnings: none
Summary: Written for dw100 Challenge #201: Train.
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The TARDIS learned to translate concepts, not words, because English was a strange little language.
“It’s a bit of a dress,” Rose eyed her companions with something akin to pity, “you know, the flowing bit everyone steps on unless it’s carried by small children.”
“Not even close,” Jack grinned. “It’s engines and freight cars, whistles and smoke– unless you’ve gone electric, but what’s the fun in that?”
“It’s the light of a wishing star, the entropic death of comets.” The Doctor was brooding again.
So she threw a pillow at him… and their foray into linguistic scrabble devolved from there.