Saving the Cult (if not the World), Chapter Three

It wasn’t even a very long dream!

Content warning for violence here.

The thing about the house her mother had — magicked up?  Unfolded? — had unfolded was that, while it was plenty bigger than, say, an RV or a tent, it was not as big as their house back home, and that meant that Lina spent a lot more time bumping into her parents. 

This was exacerbated by the fact that her parents were around more.  Her father usually spent all day at work; now he was sitting on the porch making phone calls, or sitting in the back sun room making phone calls, or pacing in the living room… making phone calls.  

She was beginning to think that all her father did was make phone calls. Endless phone calls with endless people, all of them full of endless jargon.

Or maybe he was feeling trapped, too, and phone calls were the only way he could get out.

 

 

 

 

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Mirrored from Alder's Grove Fiction.