I woke with a smouldering headache. I was in a room, lying on a compacted dirt floor, and the air smelt sickly sweet, lemony and smokey. I wonder how long I had been asleep.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could see across from me, Gg Kk was leaning against the wooden plank wall. He was awake, and looking at me.
"Hullo," I said. "Where are we?"
"Hullo. We were captured. Do you remember?"
"No.. I don't remember."
"A Flingellan Fumigating Four came to get us, I think. They knocked us out and threw us in here. You've been out for a long time."
"The Flingellan Fumigating Four? That's quite an honour."
"No. Well, yes, it would be. But it was only a Flingellan Fumigating Four."
"Ah. A shame. Still, perhaps we will get a medal. How long have I been out?"
"Perhaps. A few weeks, I guess. It's hard to count. I have been feeding you with the drips they provide."
"Ah. Flingellan hospitality."
"Yes, it's not so bad. Should we escape, regardless?"
This is a five-minute freewrite based on the prompt fumigate.
It is a continuation of a kind of jungle adventure, part 8 of which is here.
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