Friday’s Page 69 ~ Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir
A final, thuddering clunk. Complete stillness. The seals on the outside were unlatched by some outside force, and as light blazed around the edges of the hatch, Gideon winked at her increasingly agitated companion. She said, sotto voice: “But then you couldn’t have admired…. these,” and whipped on the glasses she’d unearthed back home. They were ancient smoked-glass sunglasses, with thin black frames and big mirrored lenses, and they greyed out Harrow’s expressions of incredulous horror as she adjusted them on her nose. That was the last thing she saw before the light got in.Â
