“And then…” Jan says, spitting out the orange pits.
“And then, Halliway comes out of the galley…” She stands, all four meters of her, and it’s glorious.
“Covered in flour and Vkenophil blood…” She waves her hands over her body as if slathering herself in the story.
“With a string of Acklammel pearls in one hand and a spatula in the other…” Jan’s face flushes and disappears into the sunset behind her.
“And says…” She squeezes laughter out each nose.
“And says…” I’m smitten.
“Well, that’s the last time I boil a Vkenophil without a cryosuit!”
We laugh until dawn.