Monday, August 7, 2017

100 Words a Day 1089

And after their meals, those few men and women gorged to the point of immobility dangled their delicate, manicured hands over the sides of their chairs. Morg watched agog from his cage as those desperate for their masters’ leavings, a multitude of servants, gathered to lick the salt and meaty juice from the fingers of their somnolent overlords. While the feasters dozed and the more fortunate among them took what sustenance they could from the sleeping hands, emaciated attendants crept about, quietly cleaning the bones and pits left behind, their soft footsteps lost in the careless snoring of their gluttonous betters.