~ FIRST DRAFT ~ THIS TEXT IS UNDER REVISION!
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When Mily saw where they'd be living, she couldn't decide if she liked it or not. For one thing, the ceilings were rounded, rough-cut stone that appeared to have been blasted into being, then chipped and chiseled with pickaxes to make the dwelling's walls and halls somewhat the same height all the way through. Will's and Mily's rooms were connected by a jack-and-jill bathroom that housed a toilet too tall for Mily's feet to touch the floor and a standing shower without a tub. The ground sloped slightly toward a drain beneath the showerhead, and a curved iron rod with a new plastic curtain could be drawn all the way around to create privacy. She had her own vanity mirror with a sink carved into a little alcove that attached to her bedroom—truth be told, Mily thought that it was kinda cool, but even in her socks, the rooms were too cold. She missed the beige carpet and box-cut walls of her bedroom back home.
Will liked that when he whistled it echoed, and Mily hated that she could hear the tunes even at the other end of the hall. She knew she'd be listening to her brother's whistling all the time, and it had already annoyed her when an easy exit from the noise had been available. Bird of course enjoyed Will's whistles, so it did no good to ask him to stop when their mother clearly enjoyed so little about their—"apartment," Mily had heard the keeper call it when he left them at their numbered door. There were no windows and therefore no need for curtains, and Mily knew her mother loved when houseguests had often complimented her taste in fabric. The apartment was furnished, but Bird's puckered lips told her that her mother thought every bit of furniture was boring. The kitchen, at least, had an island and a deep, double-sided sink with a separate sprayer and garbage disposal, which Dog pointed out with a sad half-smile that somehow said, 'Look at the bright side,' and, 'I'm sorry,' at once.
The keeper told them that their belongings would be delivered sometime later that evening. First, all their bags and boxes had to pass the security inspection. Mily had almost asked him what the inspection entailed, but curiosity wasn't enough to get her to speak to him again; she was still feeling off about the whole thing with her name. No one had ever reacted to her name being Womack before, never batted an eye or bothered to inquire—Mily hadn't really ever wondered about it until it had struck the keeper as strange.
"I'm hungry," Mily said testily, shuffling her feet along the rocky floor into the living room.
"We need to make a trip to the pantry," Bird said, sounding almost as cross as her daughter.
"Trip to the pantry?" Dog called from somewhere on the other end of the apartment. Mily heard his feet shuffling quickly up the hallway. He appeared in the living room dressed in a plain gray t-shirt and gym shorts, wearing socks pulled midway up his calves. "Want to make it a family trip?"
"Think you ought to wear something a little more..." Bird looked anxious as she searched for the right word. "...official?"
Dog looked down at his casual clothes and put his hands on his hips. "I guess I could put on pants."
Bird didn't seem satisfied with his answer, but she let it go. "Would you tell Will to put his shoes on?" Dog was already shuffling back down the hallway, but he called back that he would tell Will to put some pants on, too.
"That's not what you asked," Mily told her mother with a little grin.
"It certainly isn't."
A few minutes later, Dog and Will arrived dressed in almost the exact same outfit—worn light-wash jeans and gray t-shirts, not looking the least bit 'official' like Bird had suggested. Mily looked over her own attire and wondered if the pale pink corduroy overalls she'd been wearing since that morning were all right. Her mother looked nice in canvas slacks of almost exactly the same shade and a white button-up blouse with a ruffled collar. She decided not to ask about her outfit in case Bird made her go back to her bedroom and change—her stomach was grumbling.
YOU ARE READING
Mily the Millennial
FantasíaMily Junegrass Womack-Yoder wanted to be a Jack when she grew up. She dreamed about the day she would earn her Face and decide her life's trade before the Aces. But she was only eight, so she had well over a decade to figure all that out. Dog, Mily'...