Free Silo 49: Deep Dark by Ann Christy

surface gleaming and clean. Marina liked it, right down to the soft beige paint on the walls.
    The other side of the partition from Sela’s bed held a larger bed, meant for two. It was neatly made and covered in a cotton blanket that had faded and softened to a pale shade of green Marina found lovely. That part of the room could be completely shut off from the rest of the compartment by means of a curtain, now pushed to the side for maximum space. It wasn't the kind of privacy they enjoyed in their own compartment but far more than she had expected in a temporary room.
    Aside from the two beds and the thin partition wall that stood between them, there were few furnishings. Metal shelves jutted from the walls above the beds, most of them empty but one holding a neatly folded blanket, this one a less faded yellow color. Lamps attached to movable arms protruded from bases screwed into the wall above each bed.
    The space between the door and the smaller bed was taken up by a round table just big enough for three people to eat from if they were careful with their elbows, and three straight backed chairs. Those were tucked tightly to the table to leave the illusion of space but Marina guessed that anyone actually sitting at that table would be no more than an arm's reach from the foot of the bed or the wall or the door, depending on which chair they chose.
    On the other side of the door, most of the space opposite the larger bed area and the metal doors of the shallow closet next to it had been walled off for a very small bathroom. She supposed that having a bathroom is what made it a better room.
    She opened the door to take a peek inside and found it tiny, but very nicely appointed. The floor and walls were tiled top to bottom, and only a few of the tiles were cracked. Each cracked one stood out, the bright white bead of sealant breaking the symmetry of the regular squares.
    The shower was small and had a door that folded rather than slid like those she had in her own residence because of the limited space. The metal sink and toilet were crammed in such close proximity that one might almost wash their hands in the one while still taking care of business on the other. She lifted a small jar of dark soap from the sink and caught the sweet, astringent scent of rosemary.
    "Well, they have really nice soap. Mind if I go first?" she asked as she poked her head back out.
    Joseph was lining up the vegetables he had taken from Sela's pack on one of the shelves, carefully inspecting each for damage first. He didn't turn from his task but said, "Go ahead."
    Sela was deeply involved in smoothing wrinkles from a long tunic and a pair of beige cotton pants. She stroked the fabric, already spread out as flat as possible on the bed, but it didn't seem to be doing much to fix the problem. It was a rare occasion that brought out anything other than coveralls and Sela appeared both nervous and excited as she examined the wrinkled cotton.
    The tunic was colorfully dyed in staggered bands of color from bright yellow at the top down to orange and finally to a deep red at the hem. It had been a gift from her father when she began to shadow for him and in the time since, she had never worn it outside their compartment.
    "Sela, you might get those wrinkles out a little easier if you hang it in the bathroom while I shower. Hot showers work wonders for more than just getting clean."
    She stopped smoothing the fabric and looked up uncertainly. "Are you sure I should wear this? In public?"
    "Absolutely," Marina answered with conviction. "Lots of people wear them on special occasions. You just don't see it that much because you always see people on business or going to work. Even Grandy wore clothes other than coveralls. She wore them almost every day when I was young."
    A skeptical look appeared on Sela's face and she crossed her arms, a sure sign of disbelief. "Grandy? No way."
    Marina nodded, "Yes, way. She absolutely did. It was only when we traveled the