Sunlight And Growing Things...

Hey Everyone!! :-)

Here's a little bit more of the third installment in the Petri Dish Chronicles! As always, the disclaimer is that this is a draft and, as such, it's unedited and likely full of errors and is subject to revision, revamping, and being completely scrapped and rewritten. But, with that in mind, I'm reasonably satisfied with the basics of it, at least at the moment, or I wouldn't have bothered posting it. Enjoy! :-)

Excerpt from the third Petri Dish book:
Sighing, Petri rolled onto her back and studied the ceiling. It was different from most of the ceilings on Zanzibar, which tended towards plain white and industrial, Wema had seen to that; with long, twisting vines writhing across it, suspended here and there from bright, colorful hooks. The peeks of rainbow through the riot of greenery reminded Petri, somehow, of the dreams she used to have. Dreams that contained warmth and safety; dreams she missed even though her waking circumstances had greatly improved.

Petri craned her neck to look around the room. It was early morning, and the star Zanzibar orbited was starting to show over the horizon. The soft rays painted the small room in stripes of light and shadow. Natural light was still a novelty for Petri, and she couldn’t help but smile when she raised her hand and allowed a sunbeam to play across her fingers. She marveled at the gentle heat in it, different from the heat her lover’s sleeping body was generating next to her, but pleasant and reassuring in some vague, indefinable way. Snorting softly at herself, she rolled her eyes. However much of her was human, it seemed there was enough that she was still subject to her ancestral race’s affinity for sunlight. Psychology or physiology; the line was often far more blurred than people liked to admit.

She allowed her hand to fall to her nearly flat chest and breathed deeply. Wema’s love of plants ensured that the air in her apartment was always fresh, if a bit humid and tainted with a slight scent of mildew. Petri supposed there were tradeoffs for everything, and a bit of mustiness was worth it if it meant she got to enjoy Wema’s cheerful, little slice of jungle. After all, it was certainly a much less offensive smell than the pervasive stench of decay and desperation that was Under City’s perfume.

Yep, sorry, that's it for today. But I'm almost done with the first chapter, so I'll post it in its entirety in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, thanks for stopping by and don't forget to check back tomorrow for the latest in Mistral Dawn's Musings. Happy Reading! :-)