Sunday Photo Fiction-Fast Food

the waterfrong spf

“We have arrived. The sign overhead reads ‘ The Waterfront’ and has the same bearings as the ones entered on the GPS. Still let’s proceed with caution.” said She.

The Maître d greeted and asked ‘Table for two?”

“Yes, we have been told to ask for the special menu” said He.

The Maître d spasmodically twitches and in silence directs them to the side. For an interminable minute  they waited while he made sure they were unobserved.  He drew open damask drapes from behind him to reveal a doorway leading to the restaurant’s private subterranean level.

Each step down, the temperature sweltered, their ears filled with discordant buzzing and fetid odours undulated to their nostrils. At the bottom they were in a cavernous hall of diners in a tropical vivarium.

He and She  tore off their humanoid flesh as taking off a heavy coat and draped it over their chairs. They were seated next to a family of big boned reptiles hoovering slug and cockroach bisque.

“Who says the Earth colony doesn’t serve civilised fast food.” buzzed She.

spf

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