“And what role do these people that are coming later have in the group?” Derek asks.
The auntie now sits at the table. “They are what is called an active duty cell. The rebels who get their hands dirty. You may find some of the stuff they do reprehensible but its all for a good cause.”
Derek looks her right in the eyes. “I understand. The thirst for freedom, to live one’s life as you wish. It is something intrinsic to being human. My life on the moon had been set out. Leaving and seeing Earth was never supposed to be in my future. I understand.
The auntie nods.
Derek retreats to his room. It’s important that he would be on top of his game later on. Guilty thoughts plague him.
He awakes hours later to the noise of chattering.
They have arrived.
There is a knock on his door as he transfers back into his wheelchair “Yes?”
“It’s me, Maeve. They are here and asking to meet you.”
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
He took a big breath and looked into the mirror hanging on the wall.
It’s important I make a good impression. My life may depend on it.
Mark's Writing Corner 