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Weekly Contest #264
Supervisor Kevod pinches the top of his snout in exasperation, all six of his light receptors slamming shut at once. Without opening any of what Earthlings might call his eyes, he gestures at the seat in front of his desk with an auxiliary tendril, wordlessly inviting me to sit. I sit. The chair creaks loudly in response to my density. In a stale gust that unrolls over the desk and across the tender, recently molted skin of my face, he releases the breath he'd been holding as a sigh. "Do you have any idea why I've called you in here today?...
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