‘Ooh, touchy! Touchy!’ Boris said. ‘You think hands are so bad? I think it’s time you learn your lesson.’ Boris signaled for another guard to stand on the other side of me. ‘Get her out of my sight. The next time I see her I want her as a mince sauce on my Magellan maggots.’ He purred, ‘Mmmm! Magellan maggots.’Read more "Out of the Chocolate Box (65)"
‘Where shall I take her…’ the masked man asked, then lowering his voice, ‘…for your pleasure, Boris?’ He pulled me back.
‘Just a minute,’ I said, wriggling to minimize the distance between my enemy and me, ‘not so fast. I want to have the pleasure of spitting on him until he’s covered in it.’ I pulled away from my captor.
The scent of antiseptic mixed with a putrid pong stung my nostrils. ‘Ugh! What’s that wiffy…?’ I gagged. Then with hand to mouth, I looked up.
Boris lounged on a reclining armchair. He rested on his shell showing off his abdomen. His flesh was covered in gaping wounds infested with maggots.
Mutants appeared from nowhere, for their early morning swim. Their sack-like bodies flopped in the water.
Then the mutants spotted us. And they were after us.
‘Wanna go out with me?’ one asked his tongue hanging out in anticipation.
Another followed us like a shadow. ‘You be my frwend?’
The viewer showed a mass of black-brown lumps. The stench like rotting fish stung my nostrils.
I sniffed. ‘Can you smell that?’
‘What smell?’ The Commander remained unaffected by any smell.
‘The rotting fish smell.’ I put a handkerchief up to my nose and mouth. My eyes streamed. I gagged. ‘Sure the Storm hasn’t cracked…’
Driver picked her crowded teeth with the end of a paper clip.
We sat at the bridge of the “Storm”, a small craft, but we did nothing, and the computer did everything: Navigation, piloting, maintenance—you name it, the machine did it, even serving tea and coffee.
‘I suppose a hundred years has passed back there,’ I said.
‘Oh, no my dear, nothing like that! Time doesn’t pass that quickly.’ Driver corrected. ‘Only a few months really.’
I nodded silently hot tears welling in my eyes. The shame of my disgrace and the possibility of perhaps never seeing anyone I knew again, except perhaps Driver, had set in.Read more "Out of the Chocolate Box (55)"