Leah
Leah
My eyes blinked open as if I’d just taken a nap. Just seeing a ceiling made of dark paneled wood was enough to nudge my brain into realizing that I was no longer in the processing center. It was quiet, no hum of the air conditioning, no machines. The air was warm and humid. A rustle had me turning my head. I seemed to be resting on a hard table and an old man sat in a high-backed chair at its edge. Using my hand on the wood, I pushed myself up to sitting. I wore a green dress, simple in design, yet long. It covered my legs to my ankles, yet my feet were bare. It had long sleeves but a low-cut bodice. It wasn’t overly revealing, but I was fairly large so I always had cleavage. The dress was odd, old-fashioned in style, something a woman would have worn a hundred years earlier.
