Downtime in Al’Amal
Shayla woke up to the delicious aroma of breakfast. She inhaled deeply and stretched her arms. A bot had come in and laid down a tray table filled with a hot teapot, cumin seed biscuits with a fresh dollop of butter, and her favorite, haleem—a traditional lentil porridge with ground meat and mild spices. She beamed and rubbed her hands together with glee, home-cooked food!
She took a sip of the hot tea, and munched on the biscuits as she scooped up the haleem. The dishes reminded her of Alibaba, and a shiver ran through her spine. It was such a ridiculous coincidence that she even knew that old story, or remembered the line that had saved her life—open sesame. Those other people it killed. That horrendous smell!
She gulped the hot tea absent-mindedly, and spat it out
