Eden
Day Three
Angie collapsed onto her bunk. She’d served breakfast, helped wash up, served lunch, and was now exhausted. Her stomach was starting to devour itself, gnawing and gnawing until it felt like it would soon poof away into nothingness.
Worse, she was sweating and had a headache.
A fine Scotch with a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich sounded divine. After a biofuel conference in Scotland two years ago, she’d been treated to a finger of ultra-rare Glenfiddich Janet Sheed Roberts Reserve single-malt whisky. If she focused, she could still recall the pale gold color and heavenly flavor of barley, pear, and heather.
She needed a drink. How was she going to escape from this place?
Tapping her foot irritably, she stared up at the ceiling. Luna snored softly in the bunk below
