All in Drama
Who is it? was the question unspoken; the light of dawn would illuminate who was missing. But until then, only one dorm knew who owned the voice, bundled up in shadows and carried far below, where the rats gnawed on the pipes and some mysterious, terrible dish awaited.
The problem with modern technology, Khopesh mused as he dug through wires and displays, was that the things weren’t tested by anyone who actually had to use them, and everyone seemed loathe to install so much as a tiny ‘manual override’ button in case some tyke smacked it and sent trillions of dollars hurtling to a fiery doom.
The sterile white walls, the pale green curtains ringing the bed, the faint smell of bleach and soap and alcohol hand sanitizer that clung to his clothes for days and lingered even longer in his mind - he hoped Sam’s dreams were full of better things.
Her footsteps were the only noise in the gilded corridor, the tiny sounds of her heels echoed and amplified until it became the tread of a fateful army thundering in her ears. As the grand doors swung open, she swallowed the acrid bile that rose in her throat and flashed a smile at the assembled guests.
Frank glanced nervously around the room, once, twice, not taking in any of the furniture. His eyes darted to the window. It was sunny outside, a glorious day filled with light and laughter.
