Michelle's Bad Day (story)

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Re: Michelle's Bad Day (story)

Post by Asherian »

Stifling a cry she turned around, unable to face the device, or to look at him without seeing it. "You're right Greggie, it wouldn't do for them to come in and not find me. I better go get ready for the ceremony. And don't worry Greggie Patch, I won't leave you standing and waiting for me again."

If he responded she didn't hear it, she was already leaving the room feeling to broken in soul even worry if a moleman found her next to the hole between the lab and her room. Holding Greg's letter against her still flat stomach. How could he have even known? She'd only found out a week ago herself, and the nerve of him to say there was no father! Just because he didn't like Svenon didn't make him any less a part of her life. After staring at the pit for a time, glaring as if her anger might make it spew forth answers instead of just gaping silently she descended back into the room of the time she'd rather just forget.

Landing back next to the chair in the room she found it still empty. Moving the board back into place a casual observer would think nothing odd of the situtation, other then the fresh dust covering the chair and Michelle's yellow sundress. It was apparent her distraught eyes didn't notice those details as she went and sat on the bed forlornly unable to see a way out of her and now Greggie's fate.

Rubbing her hand again against her stomach the crinkle of paper reminded her of the other bundle she carried. Slowly, turning away from the door laying on the bed to shield it from the doorway, she opened the papers she'd found in Greg's pants. The first page was a mystery to her, the technical jargon far beyond her ability to comprehend. Shuffling through the 5 pages she found them all similar, here and there a diagram of some arcane machine. Or maybe not a machine at all but something organic? She was sure this wasn't the complete set of papers where ever these came from, several appeared to be upside down or backwards. All were covered back and forth with the tiny scratch like letters of a moleman, though in something closer to English then Molon, whatever in the world was a "Dendrite Genophagic Postulate" supposed to mean? Smiling sadly she shoved the paper under the pillows hoping they'd be safe there between the bed and the wall, Greggie could barely read his own name she remembered, he probably thought those papers would explain project MM or what had been done to him.
As pure as the driven snow. Bitches

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