This weeks words: knave, rioja, boot
As the Knave of Dschubba drifted towards the next port of call; Rioja watched the slow spiralling dance of the background stars on the graph-screen in the staff canteen.
The quieter the port, the more privacy had been bought, and the richer the planet. This one was even unnamed, so that only those who knew more about it could even go there.
Rioja dreamed of one day setting boot onto a planets surface, stepping away from the constant jabber of people, machines, monitors.
She saw the tall man whose attention she’d tried to hook, navy cloaked, prepared to disembark.
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