Crystal Banaba - 2
200 words to continue (a Drabble was not enough)
Rachel reluctantly got up and followed Laura. “I’ve radioed mainland to pass the message to your husband that you are alright,” Laura said casually.
Rachel didn’t even want to ask how Laura managed to reach Evan. She just said, “Thank you. When can I get out of here?”
“The next ship will be arriving in four days. We’ve looked at your plane damage and it doesn’t seem we’ll be able to fix it. There’s a part there we don’t have, but Jay promised to see if he can make one.”
“Jay, I presume, is your blacksmith?”
“Correct.” Laura was cool and detached. Like nothing happened.
“If I’m stuck here for four days, I’ll need a change of clothes and basics. Do you have a store where I can buy some?”
“Sure, I’ll ask someone to take you there after lunch.”
At lunch, which was a choice of two soups and several sandwiches, Rachel didn’t talk too much beyond politely answering people’s questions. She couldn’t stop wondering who all these people were wearing: their grandparents, parents, siblings? In her mind, she was coming up with a guessing game every time she saw a diamond on someone. They all behaved so naturally!
***
Previous part is here, but if you are new you should probably start from the beginning linked below:
And here's the beginning:
About the Creator
Lana V Lynx
Avid reader and occasional writer of satire and short fiction. For my own sanity and security, I write under a pen name. My books: Moscow Calling - 2017 and President & Psychiatrist
@lanalynx.bsky.social
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More stories from Lana V Lynx and writers in Chapters and other communities.
Crystal Banaba - 1
Rachel sat on the beach, processing what she just learned. Could they be right about voluntary euthanasia? Honestly, she often thought that if she got to the old age where she became a burden for her two sons, she’d go to Switzerland and get euthanized. Has Crystal Banaba resolved this tough ethical issue?
By Lana V Lynx2 days ago in Chapters
Inside Rebels
I still remembered the first day Mr. Hargrove entered our sophomore English classroom, his shoulders hunched like a storm cloud ready to unload its fury. I was fifteen, clutching a battered notebook, and my best friend, Maya, sat beside me, her eyes narrowed with an instinctive wariness. The walls, once adorned with vibrant student posters, seemed to shrink under the weight of his scowl, and his voice cut through the chatter like a blade. “This is not a playground; it is a battlefield of ideas,” he announced, his tone dripping with disdain for any hint of youthful enthusiasm. From that moment, the air grew thick with an oppressive expectation that made each breath feel like a silent accusation, and I sensed that Maya and I would soon be forced to navigate a terrain far more treacherous than any literary analysis we were meant to master.
By Forest Green7 days ago in Chapters
Comments (1)
Rachel playing that guessing gameis kinda the equivalent of me imagining the couple having wild nasty sex whenever I see a pregnant woman 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣