Oreus’ eyebrows raised on seeing them. Both suffered from some sort of paralysis or at least that was what they claimed.
The Mangans embraced the color red, sporting in on their chairs, jackets, and even dying their hair.
The Rangers were despised by all the other teams, as they took delight in torturing their victims slowly.
A stench entered the room. Oreus’ face twitched.
Roisin grinned. “He’ll doon be here.”
The Governor entered the room. He looked like death. “Ah, good, most of you are here.”
“You never informed me that this would be a Gathering!” The anger in Oreus’ voice was palpable.
“None of us were informed,” Brigid replied, staring right into his eyes.
“Stop it!” The Governor shouted. “There is no time for your squabbles. You will be quiet and your grievances aside for now.
He took a large breath. “There is an issue with the supply of grain to the planet. Prices are about to rise by fifteen percent. A percentage of the population, relatively small will starve. However, that concerns me not. There must be no disorder. A new enemy has entered the quadrant, and production must not be affected.”
After rubbing his nose, he continued, “That’s where the Wheelchair Wars come in.”
Mark's Writing Corner 