... CHAPTER 7 ...
- That’s right. – approved the Teuton – And to be polite you needed to say yes. And he couldn’t care less that everything was all right. And you cared even less.
Another Teuton was smiling, enthralled. And looked around to grasp the difference.
From a hole in the dome (an assembly-line-food generator) one hundred gram ground beef units fell. The balls, ejected from a hydraulic sphincter, flattened onto moving grills. And a three-fingered hand turned them carefully.
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-- Go Daily Index --
© 1998 Gianni Actis Barone
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