“They’re not the happy fellas they #appear,” sarcastically she rolled her eyes to Sara’s as she spoke.
“They’ve received the order to hold and they’re grumbling their dissent. The one near the entrance to that chamber, he’s repulsed by our stench and admonishing command for what he calls ‘a torturous delay.’" The woman raised a hand a moment to hide her snickers.
“I’m Jarmin, from the headlands in the north. What’s your name, dreary one?”
Sara side-eyed her response, keeping her voice low as the guards were always listening and had remarkable hearing, despite having only holes for ears at the sides of their heads.
“Sara,” she replied. “I was once a Rubbler in L’undonetown, so brave were those days, but pleased I be to you. Would you be a Mimik, I’m guessing?”
“Aye. I am that,” Jarmin replied, then paused the speaking to listen to the #increasing agitation detectable in the hissing of the Arbitrarians.
excerpt from Spiral Eyes - a work in progress - a dystopian, scifi future.
by Ross McDermott.
#2wordprompt #appear #increase #writing #amwriting #wip #SpiralEyes #scifi #dystopian #future
*A Rubbler meets a Mimik while march-stepping in the queue.