Kellim had to talk to her voluptuous ex-paramour. “I hope you’re okay, Kellim.” Just a few words from her busty ex-lover made Kellim tremble like a convulsive leaf. Reluctantly, but determinedly, Kellim trudged to the comm. Tears formed in her pea green orbs when the protestors fell like strands of grass. She gasped when the NewWelsh Army fired vigorously into the crowds. Kellim frowned at the sight of the NewWales Colony ration protesters. At her entreaty, the wall displayed the news. It felt good to be nano-scientifically clean after eight hours in the meat fields. Kellim shrugged out of her latexly clinging bio-suit and took a much needed shower. What’s Wrong With Your Eyes? by The DIY Publisher No, It’s Not Fire, and It’s Not a Bloody Shower, Either.
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