Sky Toys (Foggy World)
Her body jerks.
The carpet is hard and sky blue. There are shelves around her, stocked with dusty toys. More toys hang from the white ceiling, spinning gently back and forth. Sunlight, filtered by fog, streams in from a picture window.
She sits up.
The gun is still in her hand. It's down on bullets. (She reloads.) Everything is all there. Except "there" is somewhere she's never seen.
Not that she is complaining. An abandoned toy store is infinitely preferable to where she just was.
She wearily pulls herself to her feet, rubbing her head.
And then she notices the quiet voice, slightly muffled by shelving and distance. She pads through the aisles, ears straining to find its source. Right now, anyone alive is better than complete solitude.
The carpet is hard and sky blue. There are shelves around her, stocked with dusty toys. More toys hang from the white ceiling, spinning gently back and forth. Sunlight, filtered by fog, streams in from a picture window.
She sits up.
The gun is still in her hand. It's down on bullets. (She reloads.) Everything is all there. Except "there" is somewhere she's never seen.
Not that she is complaining. An abandoned toy store is infinitely preferable to where she just was.
She wearily pulls herself to her feet, rubbing her head.
And then she notices the quiet voice, slightly muffled by shelving and distance. She pads through the aisles, ears straining to find its source. Right now, anyone alive is better than complete solitude.