The Feral Sentence - Part One by G. C. Julien Page B

of sour sweat and rotting water. I slid my tongue across
the front of my teeth. My toothbrush, I thought dreamily. God, I
missed my life.
    I
stepped out into the Village, completely devastated by my inability
to maintain proper hygiene. Ellie was standing there, waiting for
me, with both arms crossed over her chest. Her dark hair was
braided to one side, and at the end of the braid was a thin rope
tying it all together. That works too, I thought.
    “ Here,” she said, handing me four small pearls.
    I could
tell these were natural and not the type you’d find attached to an
expensive necklace. They were all mismatched—one was small and
metallic blue in color, two were purple and unevenly shaped, and
the other three were a gold-like color, all perfectly round, but
different sizes.
    “ What’re these for?” I asked.
    She
smirked as if she’d just handed me a Christmas gift.
    “ Consider these Kormace currency.”
    “ Sorry?”
    Her
eyebrows fell flat.
    “ Moola, Benjamins, cheddar.”
    “ I get it,” I said, “but what do I need this for?”
    She
sighed, then turned toward the Village and glared through the
morning sun.
    “ We have a pretty good thing going on,” she said. “You work and
you get paid, just like in the real world. You can use your pearls
for just about anything—rope, clothing, hygiene products,
food.”
    “ Hygiene products?”
    Ellie
laughed.
    “ That would be tent number four,” she said, pointing several
tents down.
    I
noticed there were five of them, lined up evenly in front of the
Village wall. There were planks of wood jabbed into the earth, with
numbers carved into them.
    “ One is food, two is clothing, three is tools, four is health
and hygiene, and five is miscellaneous.”
    I knew I
wouldn’t remember this, but I’d be able to walk by to peek inside
later.
    “ Everyone here does something,” she said. “What’s the point if
you can’t contribute to the community? You’ll meet Joland in tent
number four. She’s what you call our pharmacist. She can make
anything and everything with natural ingredients.”
    “ Like soap?” I asked.
    “ Like soap,” she said, amused.
    I
stepped forward, prepared to purchase any type of soap available.
I’d lather myself in squid guts if it guaranteed my
cleanliness.
    “ You might want to eat first,” Ellie said.
    I
glanced back.
    “ Meals are free, but once it’s over, it’s over, so you have to
be punctual. Breakfast is at sunrise, and supper’s at
sunset.”
    “ What’s about lunch?”
    She
scoffed. “This isn’t the Marriott hotel.”
    I
shifted my attention to the center of the Village, where women were
gathered by the dozens, some sitting, others standing while
enjoying what appeared to be meat and eggs.
    “ By the way,” she added, “you’ll get over it.”
    “ Get over what?”
    “ That need to be clean all the time.”
    I
smiled. I’d always been a priss when it came to
cleanliness—borderline OCD, even. If my fruit wasn’t washed with
soap, I wouldn’t eat it. But I was starving, and at that point, I
was prepared to eat an apple covered in a layer of filthy wax. I
would have to be less picky when it came to food.
    I
approached the many women who were gathered around a small fire
that danced in a shallow pit. There were large spotted eggshells
piled beside it and cookware that appeared to have been constructed
from bone.
    “ What is that?” I asked, eying the oversized bowl of cooked
eggs and pieces of meat.
    I
received several glares, but no one responded. My stomach growled.
Several women were hunched over their own bowls, scooping gooey
pieces of egg into their mouths with their hands. I analyzed the
area. There were no bowls or plates for me to use: no
utensils…nothing. How was I supposed to eat?
    “ Brone!” I heard.
    It was
Sunny. Although I’d hoped I wouldn’t run into her again, I was
happy to see her.
    “ Sunny,” I said.
    “ Guys, this is Brone. She’s cool shit.”
    Several
dark eyes