This weeks words: purse, theatre, travesty
The room didn’t really need cleaning, it sparkled like an operating theatre. The sleeping pod had been left out, though the green snuggler had been carefully folded and aligned with the pods corners.
Rioja pursed her lips and hissed her breath out. It was really too tidy in here. The tall man’s quarters were as secretive as his blank navy stare. The clothes were all unpacked, dark and spaced equidistantly in the closet. Nothing in any of the pockets.
She’d imagined being a daring spy, but the illusion crumbled to travesty in the face of the strangers carefully organised defences.