Today's OneWord: Transmission
"Can you make sense of the transmission?"
Alan could not. Hovering over him was his boss, Lucinda, who had pulled off her suit jacket and dropped it onto the adjacent stool, rolling up the sleeves of her conservative satin shirt. On the speakers was nothing but the roiling of static - like swollen waves caught in a radio receiver, warbled and unwelcoming.
"I don't know what they're trying to tell us."
"If anything at all," interjected Claire from the back.
Alan could not. Hovering over him was his boss, Lucinda, who had pulled off her suit jacket and dropped it onto the adjacent stool, rolling up the sleeves of her conservative satin shirt. On the speakers was nothing but the roiling of static - like swollen waves caught in a radio receiver, warbled and unwelcoming.
"I don't know what they're trying to tell us."
"If anything at all," interjected Claire from the back.
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