Shell

“Hi, Francis, or do you prefer Fran?” She sipped at her
milkshake through a straw. She reminded me of a chipmunk after
eating way too much sugar. Not that I know what that looks like
or anything.”
― Sophie Wilkinson

“The smallest objects in the room began to spin round and
move close to the mirrored object in the room. I managed to duck
as a chair came flying toward my head and missed me by a few
millimeters. I could feel myself being pulled in, being dragged
like someone was physically pulling me across the room. It was
hard not to begin to move forward. I couldn’t stop myself. I tried
to grab onto an object, but my hand slipped, and I went flying.
Fran’s arm caught me, but she wasn’t strong enough; we both
went flying toward the mirror. Faster and faster we were falling,
falling downward in a horizontal room. I felt like I was about to
hit the floor, like I was going to fall and fall forever.
I was scared for Fran and especially scared for me. Eventually,
we were consumed by the light. It was hard to breath. I couldn’t
feel, hear, or see anything.”
― Sophie Wilkinson

“Fran panicked. “We’re all doomed!”
I looked at her and couldn’t help but smirk she seemed to
lighten my mood, whilst blackening her own. “But I’m not a spy,
Fran. Neither are you, we’re innocent!”
“I know that. You know that. But they are suspicious, all of
them.” She made a circle with her finger and pointed her eyes
toward a group of children that all seemed under the age of five.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Those children are really on to us.”
― Sophie Wilkinson, The Beginning

“In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act.”
― George Orwell