by Garry Vakarian
6.32 AM November the 21st, Paris, FSR (French Socialist Republic)
As usual, Luo turned the TV on to get a glimpse of the state of the world while pouring his first mug of coffee – the first of a long series – of the day. The strong smell of Peruvian Robusta could wake up a dead but not Orsane. In addition to being a sloth, her cold prevented her to smell even the strongest odor. This blend wasn’t his favorite or even one he liked but it was the most powerful and he needed to be awake really fast. He sat on the armchair of the couch and listened to CCTV’s morning broadcasting duo. Most of the news centered on the ongoing military operation in America. The People’s Army established a bridgehead on the former United States of America near Seattle but the lawless tribes of Americans proved to be tougher than expected…
“Hmpf, just a bunch of Qínshòu!
– It’s not even seven in the morning and you’re already fired up.” Said a sultry but grumpy voice just behind his head.
“What?” responded Luo surprised. He turned around and found himself face to face with Orsane. Her auburn hair was tousled and hid half of her face, only to reveal a gentle smirk. She then sat up and stirred her arms up, lifting at the same occasion her top and revealing her belly button.
“Oh hi hon, sorry to wake you this early”. Luo checked out Orsane’s body before standing up from the couch and moved to kiss her on the cheek.
“Next time you want to wake me, use tea Luo chéri”. She turned around and headed back to the bedroom, her footsteps creaking on the wooden floor of the flat. However, before entering the room, she made a stop at the door frame.
“Oh and don’t forget to clean the coffee on the floor”
“Tā mā de» cursed Luo, his eyes on his mug lying on the floor in the middle of growing black stain …