Thursday, March 2, 2017

100 Words a Day 1035

Yetsum’s eyes snapped open; his breathing was frantic, his heart racing. Waking from cryosleep in the past had always been a gradual process. His eyes darted around. Something was wrong. The pod hadn’t opened and the air smelled funny.


He shoved against the heavy lid of the chamber, grunting. It creaked open. Yetsum sat up and looked around, confused. He remembered the room being a comforting blue color with lots of soft angles. Now it was the color of blood and rust, angles disjointed and uncomfortable to look upon. He heard unfamiliar noises coming through the doorway of the room.

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