Monday, February 29, 2016

100 Words a Day 797

The door slide halfway open. I pushed it the rest of the way and entered the shop. It managed to shut of its own accord after I was through. The red wind continued to blow outside and, looking around, I saw that the aging prefab building did little to protect things from the refuse of industry; everything in the shop had a rust-red tint. I declined to remove my respirator.

I didn’t recognize the proprietor’s species; nor did I speak his language. Fortunately, he had a small droid that was able to translate. Turned out he didn’t have the part.

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