PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
“Why would anyone choose this tomb?”
Sally’s voice ricocheted in the clearing. I felt my face flush and dug my nails into my palms to keep from responding.
“I realize they don’t need light, but what do they have against air?”
“They’re blind, you know, not deaf,” Mark noted dryly. I could’ve kissed him.
Sally shrugged. She leaned forward and slapped the wall. “Thick walls. I bet they’re as good as.”
Sally boomeranged off the wall as if electrocuted.
A hand waved out of an arrow slit, two inches from her waist.
“Come right in. Dinner’s ready.”