‘Ya’cooddropapin,’ he thought morosely.
Looking around at the people habba-dackussing about their business – he worried about the decisions that resulted in him sneezing in a room full of strangers, without a bless-you to be heard.

‘You could drop a pin,’ he said cheerfully.
The office was quiet, which made the weight of his lanyard all the more noticeable. He lamented sneezing as he did all things beyond his control. An awful thing, that sudden tempest of surprise and innocence.

‘I’ve heard that French people don’t say bless you,’ he thought to say, but instead he ate some strawberries and worried that he had become a beetle, moth or butterfly that had been framed inside a case.

You could drop a pin.