Reblogged from Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge:
Once again they stomped out of the room knowing without looking that their superior was glaring at her through the one way glass.
She sat quite still.
Except there was that quiet little smile again.
Her interrogators clinched their jaws.
How was she managing it?
Having spent days in the concrete isolation cells.
Blind folded. Bound to a chair.
Yet she wouldn’t bend.
What kept her going?
Everything pointed to her. Being one of them.
Clinging to the past. Worse. Talking to others. Spreading nonsense.
“Not trying to recruit. No, just chatting. Forestry stuff.”
Right. They ain’t no landscapers.
Continue reading here: If it had been a snake…