"Jesse stirred slightly in his uncomfortable bed. He was lying on a dirty blanket and encased in wood, which for some reason was baking hot. His mouth was dry and parched as he tried to unstick his tongue from it. Blinking his eyes in the half-light, he turned to his right to peek through the vertical sliver of light outside his makeshift bunk. All he could see was a shaft of sunlight showing up the grains of dust that gently filtered through the air, down towards the weathered floorboarding beneath them. All was still and all was quiet.
In one weary movement, Jesse pushed the sliding door as far as it would go to halfway down his body, he rolled and slid out of the wall-lining cupboard. Around the edges of the room were dusty circuit boards and bits of clapped out old machines that no longer worked, laid out there just in case they came in handy. Jesse loved the pattern of circuits on the boards, they had a kind of art-form to them. One of the few pleasures left to him in this world. Making his way to his knees, and rubbing his eyes with his sleeve, he crawled over to another open cupboard and pulled out a small tin of food. The label was weathered, but if you looked closely, you could just make out it was an old tin of baked beans. Picking up a medium-sized screwdriver, which seemed to be left there for just that purpose, he carefully started to dig into the lid of the tin, and peel it open. Once he was in, in a well practiced move, Jesse slipped the screwdriver straight in his mouth and out again, in one sleek movement, and the shaft was clean. Carelessly placing the screwdriver on the side, without looking at it, his whole attention was focused on the juicy beans before him. Diving grubby fingers in eagerly, he scooped the beans straight into his mouth, guzzling them down cold."
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Anya brought the sleek invisible jet hissing gently down towards the shoppers on the main streets of London, reassured that the low hum of it’s engines would be lost among the hustle and bustle of local shoppers passing by and the festive music pouring out from the open shop doorways inviting you in with a warm glow to battle the chill December air outside.
Looking out the transparent view pane, Anya could see the shoppers completely unaware her invisible jet was there. She sighed, a little despondent at the sight of the humans so engaged with their shopping. As if it were a life or death situation whether or not they would have the best Christmas Log on their table, or if they would be sold out by the time they arrive at the shop.
With a deep breath, Anya tucked a lock of brilliant white hair behind her ear, the rest neatly swept back from her icy pale skin, and turned her dark red eyes back down to her console, twiddling dials and pressing buttons to emit a series of beeps as she ran the basic system checks she always ran when she landed.
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