Ellie looked at the ceiling. “Light’s on,” she said. “Ingestion, Propulsion, Secretion.”
“Your lamp’s off.” Darla pointed to the darkened shade above a hollow ceramic base.
“Yeah. It’s my grandfather’s birthday. Mechanical and chemical digestion.” Ellie drummed her fingers.
“I thought your grandfather was dead.” Darla fished in her own desk and produced a text identical to the one Ellie was studying. “Here’s to a new way of life.” Darla thumped down her own book and reached for Ellie’s switch.… Read the rest