By MJE Michael
Copyright 2011 MJE Michael
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Shellandra had already grown accustomed to the abuses that her current role in the world allotted her. A half-sucked cigarette hung from her full lips with smoke curling listlessly from the tip. Standing in the dirty hotel room, she sniffed and scratched her flaky scalp as she waited in the dreary semi darkness. The room had a faint and unpleasant smell of mildew. It smelled like a grimy wet cloth had been left in one of the shadowy corners to rot in the cold room. Ash crumbled from the tip of her cigarette to the carpet below as she though further on the chill room. It wasn’t cold enough to see her breath, but just cold enough for her thin form to be mildly uncomfortable.