Welcome back to a new Thursday Fiction. We continue where we left of last week, following Isabelle as she figure out who she really is.
Isabelle didn't answer. She had nothing to say that she hadn't already. She took the plate of tomatoes out of her mother's hand and serve herself a spoon full of tomatoes, making sure to avoid as much as possible the onion cubes in the dressing, those were gross.
“I see exactly what you explained earlier,” Mike Grant said.
Her mother smiled an indulgent smile looking at her. She could even make it reach her eyes, she had so much practice but Isabelle knew that everything she said would be analyzed and spit back at her face later when every host had gone and every ally were back to their own universe.
“The tomatoes are delicious,” said the woman sitting next to Mike. She was blond with purple bangs which probably drove Sophia Torle completely crazy. After all there was just so much you could control about your host, there was no way to be in them twenty four hours a day and it seemed that Sophia had overlooked the hair dresser expedition. In her universe, the universe of Merlo, she was a chestnut brown haired woman with very heavy make up and bright red lipstick that often found it's way to her front teeth. She was a curse for manners, never put more than her for arms on the table and knew exactly the different between a desert spoon, a tea spoon and a coffee spoon. She was one of Isabelle's tutor, the one supposed to teach her manners and Isabelle had to go to her place to learn as her mother silverware weren't sophisticated enough; a lack of refinement from the universe of Hamelin nothing they could do about it.
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