Belinda Crawford

World-weaver. Tale spinner. Geek.

Page 3 – 3rd Person

World changing. Her twin’s words ring in Svana’s ears, following her into the dark mess hall and around the vacant tables that sprout the legs of upturned chairs like a herd of hedgehogs. She doesn’t need world changing, isn’t looking for anything more than life changing, her life changing, but all the same something had tightened in her gut when Sassa flung her hands in the air and said the words. The something stayed with her, crouched in the back of her mind, running up and down her spine with equal parts excitement and trepidation.

Svana pushes past the half-door, slipping into the galley, dimly lit by the green exit sign and small red standby lights on the huge appliances. The heavy cold-room door stands at the end of the long row of stainless steel benches and she pulls it open slowly, waiting until the flickering automatic light steadies before stepping across the threshold. Rows and columns of carefully stacked and sorted food and, towards the back, a stack of frosted plastic drawers. She slides one out, revealing a pile of orange-red, banana like fruits the gathering party collected the day before, and reaches in and picking out the juiciest.

“A single genetic marker.” Svana’s breath frosts in the cold as she studies the fruit, her mouth already watering. “Changing the world.”

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