A respectable woman, sipping tea with others women of her station, exchanging chuckles and pleasantries. No one remarked when she excuses herself from their company after a certain server passed by. She passes through the crowded chamber, down the labyrinthine corridors of the grand vessal, until she comes to a small, cramped chamber.

A brief exchange, all business, of course. Money exchanged for a bag of blue powder. The euphoria that follows the first sniff.

All that’s left is for her to avoid those disciples of the red that will kill her on sight for her transgression. She rushes up passageway after passageway, her heart pounding, convinced they’ll appear at her heels any moment.

Until they do.

a dark room

hot and sticky with

humidity

I leave Morpheus

to run the AC

for 26th June 2021 prompt: Gerry Muse #264 (occasional tanka prose)