World After
“I assume this was once a gift shop by the look of the postcards and key chains on a forgotten stand by the door.
Inside, several human minions mix with prisoners. The minions stand out with their clean faces, groomed hair, and fresh clothes. There’s also an air of confidence about them that the prisoners don’t have.
“Madeline,” says Doc.
A woman with the strong lines and the aging-model looks of a ballet instructor saunters over. Every motion is graceful and fluid, as if she was used to being o...n stage or on the catwalk. The tight bun of her gray-streaked hair only emphasizes her emerald eyes.
“Can you find a place for her?” asks Doc in a low voice.
Madeline looks me over. She’s not just glancing at me to get a quick impression of who I am. She assesses, taking in my hair, my height, every curve and plane of my face. It’s as if she’s memorizing me, cataloging aspects of my appearance. She glances back at the collection of prisoners.
The prisoners are all female and they stand in pairs.MoreLess
Inside, several human minions mix with prisoners. The minions stand out with their clean faces, groomed hair, and fresh clothes. There’s also an air of confidence about them that the prisoners don’t have.
“Madeline,” says Doc.
A woman with the strong lines and the aging-model looks of a ballet instructor saunters over. Every motion is graceful and fluid, as if she was used to being o...n stage or on the catwalk. The tight bun of her gray-streaked hair only emphasizes her emerald eyes.
“Can you find a place for her?” asks Doc in a low voice.
Madeline looks me over. She’s not just glancing at me to get a quick impression of who I am. She assesses, taking in my hair, my height, every curve and plane of my face. It’s as if she’s memorizing me, cataloging aspects of my appearance. She glances back at the collection of prisoners.
The prisoners are all female and they stand in pairs.MoreLess
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