Sunday, October 18, 2015

100 Words a Day 724

“I’m here to trade,” Segat said, dumping her sack onto the table, scattering the bits of metal she had collected across the weathered surface.

Golab’s eyes lit up when she saw the sparkle of the scrap. It was very pure and would bring a lot in trade to the forgers.

“What were you looking for?” asked Golab.

“I want gas,” Segat responded, getting straight to the point.

“How much?”

“How much have you got?”

“I have quite a bit, but I don’t know how much I can give you for these scraps.”

“This is good metal. I know its worth.”

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