Greetings fellow Steemians! Here is my fourth 5 minute freewrite. The prompt was "fingernail"

Freewriting is a daily practice for most poets and fiction writers, designed to loosen up and get things flowing, like stretching before exercise. Visual artists, especially those who draw or paint from life (figures, landscapes, still lives, etc) do something similar in "gesture drawings". After reading several of @poetrybyjeremy's freewrite posts, I got excited to try these again. Many thanks to @mariannewest for hosting this daily freewrite! @mariannewest/day-129-5-minute-freewrite-sunday-prompt-fingernail

https://pixabay.com/en/medium-psychic-female-fantasy-woman-goth-1726601/

The Strangeling

"Just get us anything", The Handler gritted, "Anything, I don't know... a fingernail, a strand of hair, a tampon, anything"! He was angry, but there was a plea in his desperate eyes. He never let his composure slip, at least not that I'd ever seen. This was a first.

I swallowed, hard. For an instant my eyes flickered around the room, as if there might be another candidate tucked underneath the cushions of the overstuffed sofa or skulking behind one of the giant potted tropical plants, eager for the opportunity to volunteer. My sleep deprived, adrenaline addled brain was making a last ditch effort to find a way out, or at least to convince itself that a way out was possible. It wasn't.

I didn't like the idea of having to pay the strangeling another visit. The idea of taking her on another date... well that was just pure stupidity.

The handler circled his enormous desk to come stand in front of my chair, leaned forward so that his eyes were three inches from mine. "Look", he said, "They're ours. We made them. They belong to us, and if even one of them is allowed to entertain the idea that autonomy is an option, we'll lose all of the others, at least the ones that are already in the field. All of them. Right?" I swallowed again. "RIGHT?" he repeated, more quietly this time, but with steel in his voice. It wasn't a question. I knew what would happen if I didn't follow through. Once you were in, there was no way out, and I had chosen to be in.

Which was what I would have to get across to the strangeling. If she didn't char me to cinders from the inside out first...

©2018 Bennett Italia