After a brief pause, seemingly forgetting that I had no way to respond, her cheeks begin to burn red.
"Right right, you can't..." she murmurs, embarrassed as she looks down demurely at her feet. Slowly her gaze moves back up to the exposed flesh in the Auto-Closet, a faint grin spreading across her lips. "Right..." she mutters, wandering over to the control panel before bending over to inspect it.
Adjusting her glasses she begins to poke at the options one by one, pulling a little booklet from her apron as she reads some notes outlining her plan.
The doughy blonde fiddles with her apron as she pecks at the screen with her thorn-scarred fingers. Lines of text filling otherwise unassuming bubbles appear indecipherable from my distance, the matter not being helped by the speed at which the woman works.
Finally, after some delay, she fishes out a small USB. Her hand peels at a plastic panel beside the touch screen, popping the black shell off before revealing a set of ports along the side. As she plugs in the tiny device a folder flashes onto the screen, the white square quickly filling with hundreds of pictures ripped straight from the internet.
"There we go..." Margaret coos, her warm and cheery voice building in excitement as she begins to separate out photos. I'm forced to watch as she selects pictures of various women, the text filled bubbles quickly changing soon after each is selected.
Pausing, hemming and hawing at each selection, she taps at perhaps one or two bubbles before selecting the next image of an attractive woman. Before long she switches to pictures of men, pushing a large text filled bubble to the left as she begins to judiciously paw through them one by one.
As each image is selected, some elements from it being saved before the rest is discarded, she begins to edit both of the collections little by little. With whatever she had pulled out as a base, she taps pathetically slowly at the onboard digital keyboard, deleting almost as much as she types thanks to her constant mistakes.
Suddenly, she spins around with a grin on her face from ear to hear. Her subtle wrinkles seem to grow more prominent as she smiles, the harsh light streaming down from the ceiling leaving her with equaling harsh laugh lines.
She feels around in her apron soon producing two tickets that she taps against the glass of my jar.
"We're going to have a great time" she giggles excitedly, the doughy woman in her mid-to-late thirties practically shaking with her enthusiasm. "I've been wanting to go to one of these for-ev-er, but..." she mutters, her voice suddenly losing it's brightness as she looks down at herself.
With the tickets in one hand she reaches out, wrapping an am around my jar as her flabby sagging chest soon fills my vision from the other side of her dress and apron. I struggle to hear her over the sloshing of the liquid in my tank, the rushing of the green water in my exposed ear canal dulling her words.
"But wi... it right... wait to have that thing bet... ow you a great..." she mutters, her huffing and puffing as she struggles not to drop me sounding out far more loudly than her own words.
As she steps into the Auto-Closet the doors slam shut with a harsh hiss, the violent action causing Margaret to jump and causing me jar to fall to the floor. A loud crackling fills my ears, the dripping of water soon following as Margaret fumbles around in the darkness.
"Oh dear! Sorry, I didn't mean..." she begins to squeak, the sound of the machine whirring to life cutting her short before I find myself losing consciousness.
I wake with a start, my body aching all over and throbbing painfully. The rough and cold ground rest beneath me, some flimsy material acting as all that separates me from the dirt and grass bellow. I can feel some beat coursing through the ground, my muscles oddly and weakly convulsing and twitching against my will as they seem to respond to the beat.
The hot red morning sun burns at my eyes, a few strands of hair acting as my only real protection from the painful light. As I shift I feel more hair tumble in front of my eyes, my heart catching in my chest as I lurch up with a pained whimper.
"Too... long..." I wheeze, my mind struggling to understand how my hair had grown to this length seemingly over night. It takes a minute to kick in, the memory of Margaret and the Auto-Closet slowly crashing down into the forefront of my mind.
As my eyes flutter open, the lids struggling to follow even the basic command, I find myself staring down at...
No comments:
Post a Comment