Jennifer Morgue
“The thin light of dawn is pouring in through a porthole. Sleep held me down and tried to drown me, but waking comes as fast as a bucket of seawater in the face: I'm on Billington's yacht!
I roll out of bed and use the bathroom. My eyes are blood-shot and I could strip paint with my chin, but I'm not even remotely sleepy. I'm out of touch with Control! That fact is sitting on my shoulder, screaming in my ear with a megaphone; forget little organizational tics like Griffin, I need to talk to ...Angleton and I need to talk to him right now, if not about six hours ago, and especially before the upcoming power breakfast.
Last night's sense of apathetic passivity is a million miles away, so alien that I frown at myself in the mirror: How the fuck could I do that? It's not like me at all!
It's got to be something to do with this geas that Billington's running on me, the one Ramona refuses to explain in words of one syllable.MoreLess
I roll out of bed and use the bathroom. My eyes are blood-shot and I could strip paint with my chin, but I'm not even remotely sleepy. I'm out of touch with Control! That fact is sitting on my shoulder, screaming in my ear with a megaphone; forget little organizational tics like Griffin, I need to talk to ...Angleton and I need to talk to him right now, if not about six hours ago, and especially before the upcoming power breakfast.
Last night's sense of apathetic passivity is a million miles away, so alien that I frown at myself in the mirror: How the fuck could I do that? It's not like me at all!
It's got to be something to do with this geas that Billington's running on me, the one Ramona refuses to explain in words of one syllable.MoreLess
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