Room 218; Tuesday Morning.
Adah was crookedly curled on her bed that morning after getting up and getting dressed, bent over the pages of a book she was reading backwards, to kill the time she had for a day where all she had to look forward to was Karal bringing the fake droid lust baby around.
Or so she thought. It had happened around the beginning of the book, which was, for her intents and purposes, the end, but she'd gotten there quickly because she'd started in the middle and was going to go back and start from the back once she got to the beginning.
Word, a word, a word: a heart, own her through moving blood.
It was beautiful, and it caught her, and she lifted her head and noticed something startling about the room in the resonance of that backwards line. The music, she could hear it, she'd actually had time to find it. It was quiet; that was what was different. Music in her ears instead of pain from ripped hair, no crying, not even the quietly grating noise of teeth clinking on thin metal wires.
It was then that she realized that Bob wasn't there, and hadn't been, and the last time she could recall seeing her was when she came into the library and dropped her. She blinked at the empty cage for a second. Had she...yes. She'd definitely left the rabbit behind, didn't even think of it, distracted by one thing or another, down the line of robotic babes, a mad aloof Eel, and giving an fake mate a hard time.
Would Bob still be at the library? Where would she--
Adah blinked again. She's read that domesticated rabbits used paper and fur to build birthing nests. Plenty of paper in a library. Adah closed her eyes a moment, and then smirked, trying to hold back a laugh. Oh, it was going to be an interesting shift tomorrow, she could already feel it...
[[ door and post are open, but SP is love because I leave for work shortly and won't be back until later! Backwards excerpt is taken from 'The Blind Assassin,' a fiction-in-a-fiction of the same title by Margaret Atwood ]]
Or so she thought. It had happened around the beginning of the book, which was, for her intents and purposes, the end, but she'd gotten there quickly because she'd started in the middle and was going to go back and start from the back once she got to the beginning.
Word, a word, a word: a heart, own her through moving blood.
It was beautiful, and it caught her, and she lifted her head and noticed something startling about the room in the resonance of that backwards line. The music, she could hear it, she'd actually had time to find it. It was quiet; that was what was different. Music in her ears instead of pain from ripped hair, no crying, not even the quietly grating noise of teeth clinking on thin metal wires.
It was then that she realized that Bob wasn't there, and hadn't been, and the last time she could recall seeing her was when she came into the library and dropped her. She blinked at the empty cage for a second. Had she...yes. She'd definitely left the rabbit behind, didn't even think of it, distracted by one thing or another, down the line of robotic babes, a mad aloof Eel, and giving an fake mate a hard time.
Would Bob still be at the library? Where would she--
Adah blinked again. She's read that domesticated rabbits used paper and fur to build birthing nests. Plenty of paper in a library. Adah closed her eyes a moment, and then smirked, trying to hold back a laugh. Oh, it was going to be an interesting shift tomorrow, she could already feel it...
[[ door and post are open, but SP is love because I leave for work shortly and won't be back until later! Backwards excerpt is taken from 'The Blind Assassin,' a fiction-in-a-fiction of the same title by Margaret Atwood ]]