Call of the Future West
Syn stood in the bank tellers line, waiting. Though the air was hot and dusty, two great metal fans were making an attempt to keep the dust at bay. One rotated slowly within a wall and the other in the low ceiling. The lighting was also dim, an attempt, perhaps, to hide just how filthy the floor was. Syn stood on he tippy toes, attempting to peer over the shoulder of the large man standing in front of her. The line didn’t seem to be moving. Having just turned 18, Syn was now allowed to help...