January 22

A red light greets me and I catch a glimpse of the world outside the window. The sevenfold martyr greets me and I gaze into the mirror on the wall adjacent to the window. Her eyelashes are dripping, long enough to touch her undereye as they curl. Her many arms point towards me. "They have legalized indulgences once more," she says. Looking at me. I know I'm not the only one who receives the broadcast of this message. Her carapace gleams. The red light reflects off it. Its 7:30. The window is bleary from the rain. "Do not give in to sin," she whispers. I don't really care about what she's talking about. Her mandibles click.