Luke looked at the bowl in front of him and, with trepidation, put a spoonful into his mouth. He gulped it down, averting his eyes. Continuing to do so, he tried his best to think of happier times.
“God, that was disgusting, ” John whispered.
Silence at the table.
Lisa spat, “It’s not right.”
Yvonne put her hand on Lisa’s shoulder. “If only we had wheelchairs, we’d be in the lap of luxury.”
Luke glared. “It’s not like that at all. Timothy showed us what he eats, and it’s the same as what the rest of us eat. I told him he should only eat the best but he insists on being treated like one of his Troopers. Ask John if you doubt me.”
John nodded in agreement.
“We didn’t mean Timothy,” Lisa responded. “He is a great commander. It’s just people are so annoyed over this long journey.”
If the people I know best talk like this, what about the others?
The table closest to him has plenty of people with sullen and angry faces.
We’re not far off mutiny.
Out of nowhere, John said, “So what kind of planet are we hoping to land on?”
“Hopefully, somewhere warm,” Lisa replied.
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