The latest teaser, warm from the keyboard, just for you!
I stood up a little straighter, took a deep breath, and cracked my back. Awareness of the world edged back into my mind—funny how intense emotions can absorb you—and I looked at the small room as if I’d never seen it before.
Chunhua was absorbed in the machine on the table. Jeff and Rebecca were talking, foreheads pressed together, as they sat on the examining table. The Man Scythe rested against the steel frame of the table, probably in need of a major cleaning. Our bags and belongings were strewn around the room.
“I didn’t pack a change of underwear.” I said, out loud, to no one in particular. “I don’t know how long I’ve been wearing these clothes. I’m covered in dried critter gunk, too.”
Jeff looked up at me, coated in a layer of icky stuff, and I stared back. How had I not noticed the condition we were in?
“Lad,” he said, “this is war. Smelling like a slaughterhouse, without a change of Y-fronts on the horizon, is par for the course. Now, stop it before you start crooning for the Champagne you don’t have.”
“He’s just sour because he’s a pretty, pretty princess in disguise.”
I was flabbergasted.
“Rebecca,” I asked, “did you just launch a snarky comment in my direction?”
“I’d say you’re starting to feel like part of the family,” Chunhua spoke up. “That’s good.”