March.
Paris is troubled by unpiloted toy planes. We read this from the ease of our
office computer chair, on the other side of the planet. Drones, that the French
police cannot account for, hover near the Eiffel Tower and skiffle over the Élysée
Palace. “I say, that’s a bit rich!” exclaims Wooster when Jeeves explains that
these are unmanned aerial vehicles, not named after the club he (Bertie) visits
increasingly since the latest Honoria Glossop mix-up. Do they carry cameras or
bombs? Their maiden flight is their last, depending. Everyone else is too busy
to notice. Especially, shoegaze guitarists.
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