Tasha-Grim
Humanity is a mystery to us. It has put limitations on itself that are unseen in other planetary cultures. In other systems you can judge a race on one individual, as most are telepathically connected.
"Why is the sky green?," asked my son.
"The sky isn't green Billy," I respond to him. The mismatching of colors had mede more sense since his diagnosis of being color blind- just like his mother,
The burglar's feet lightly tap down the marble stairs. Her curls bounced up and down with every movement and bruited against her face. She noticed none of this as she attempted to get away from the greedy dragon of the Lonely Mountain.
"I'm sorry sir, you can not go in, you don't have clearance." The man in the doorway nodded. He walked back into the waiting room. 10 seconds later the bomb went off.
She swung her hips smoothly as she walked down the platform. The light were on her full blast. The microphones were all set to the maximum frequency. The faceless announcer then spoke into the microphones 'Which one of these young ladies look best in their gowns. Choose wisely- remember, their lives count on your decision'.
The tears did not fall. The sobbing did not come. The cold, dead look in her eyes showed me enough about how she was wallowing in the tragedy of surviving the exam.
The simple circular object sat on the desk. The soft gentle dips and ridges captures his eyes as he attempted to focus on the voice of the droning professor. The spell of the globe enraptured him against his best efforts.