BOOK 3 of the ORPHIC Series
CHURLISH
/ˈCHərliSH/
marked by a lack of civility.
~~~~~
Lucille 'Lucy' Opal Baker finds herself in the 21 century sporting the title of Aunt while lugging along h...
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"Corruption is a cancer that steals from the poor, eats away at governance and moral fibre and destroys trust."
The Raft April, 2016
LUCY LEARNED LONG AGO THAT time was both clarity and confusion.
Time was what moved her forwards, and never back. It allowed her to understand the evolving world around her, accept the vehicles that flew in the sky, the rise and fall of empires. Time gave her the clarity of her good fortunes and the life she shared with loved ones. It was a beautiful thing, when Lucy watched the world pass by on the rooftop of her Bucharest apartment.
But time was a wolf in sheep's clothing.
It was a thief which stole with no detection, discrete under the guise of kindness and freedom. Time stole the ability to do more, to reach for the unfathomable knowledge that came with living. It took the days, months and years that passed, dragging you with silken gloves towards an untimely death. It tore away the ones you love from your arms and carries you to infinite possibilities, all which lead to the same dead end.
Time. . .was a beautifully dangerous thing, and Lucy had learned that with ease.
Because the amount of time she spent with HYDRA, the time which nearly stole everything from her, had been agonizing in more ways than she could say. It would be impossible to recount her memories to another person with the right words. Their were no words descriptive enough for her to explain the egregious torture she underwent.
So Lucy despised time, especially when she was not allowed to know what time was–what it meant on a systematic level.
It was disorienting, when time took without her realizing time even went. She hated the feeling, because it made her powerless–it made her rely on the people around her, and here? In the darkness of a quinjet surrounded by guards armed to the teeth? Lucy didn't–couldn't–rely on anyone.
The moment the agents arrested them at the airport, Lucy was blinded by a stereotypical black sack. She could see vague shapes through the criss-crossing fabric, but that was all. There was no collar that claimed her neck, and Lucy had been okay. She had been fine, until they moved from the hands of the German Special Forces to the CIA.
That was when everything had shattered.
Everything had happened in a blur, whatever that was. Because she couldn't recount the past hour, not because she didn't have enough words, but simply because she couldn't remember. Her memories were discouragingly foggy, and all she could see was vague shapes, overlapping voices that sounded like gibberish. She decided to stop prodding at her mind, instead inspecting her surroundings.
