She remains unconscious on the taxi journey back to my humble dwelling. On arrival, I lift her into my bed. Her face is swelling up now but the bleeding has stopped. I turn on the habitat intranet but there is no mention of the crash. That is most usual. Normally, even the most banal of events is splashed over it. I surmise it is being kept from the public for whatever reason.
I go and get some ointment and water and start looking after her wounds. They are throughout her body. I can only hope that there are no broken bones as that would be beyond my expertise.
Where is she from?
I have always known for as long as I can remember that other habitats existed but it was borderline impossible to find out anything about them. There was lots of speculation of course, that some had turned their back on God, that they were consumed by sex and violence. Sounds great to me.
Once her face has been cleaned, I admire her complexion. She is beautiful. I wonder what her name is. The hours pass and it is soon time for the light to switch off. I retire to the couch in the sitting room to rest.
Mark's Writing Corner 