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014. EASY TOUCH
( —One who is easy to control or manipulate; one who bends to the desires or demands of others. )
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By morning, once again, Myra had disappeared.
The sharp sting of disappointment hit Din this time, an ache that came and went when his mind roamed to when she was around. Of course, the passage of the time dulled many things, allowed his brain to redirect from the frustration and reinvest in something else.
He glanced at the crushed ball of paper in his hands as he leaned back into the master chair of the ship, smoothing out the wrinkles to see the words spelt out in the same elusive handwriting she seemed to have. It read—
What the hell did that even mean? What had been so important that she had to deceive him of a false shut-eye to escape again? Something hot and tense sat in his guts like a fire burning slow, every moment that passed rolling into more frustration. He contemplated the sentence over and over again until he gave up.
"You saw her leave," he looked down at the kid who sat in his lap. The child seemed to be engrossed in teething the metal piece from a lever in the ship. "Didn't you?"
It didn't answer, teething away.
"Of course you did," he sighed out loud. He was trying to snoop on Myra with a child. A fifty-year-old child, he tried to reason with his conscience.
