Day sixteen in the dungeon...Covenant, book six...
"Congenial words aren’t allowed in hell. Only japes and mean-spirited limericks."
"The uniformed woman lets her comfortable shoes flop and plop against the clear plastic flooring of the cell on her way to the door, box in hand."
"The overweight moron with the ill-fitting suit and the brazenly wielded stun gun gets in her way if for only a minute."
“Did Jell-O jeans give you a fright, Stacy?”
"The uniformed woman stops only because her path is suddenly blocked. “No, Nick. He just caught me off guard is all.”
"There are no real names in hell, only carelessly crafted aliases."
“Its those fucking eyes on him. He looks at you like a dog looks at a bone.”
"The uniformed woman coughs, a universal signal for an ended social transaction, one that goes unheeded. “Did he say something nasty to you. I bet he did.”
“He said thank you.”
"Still no movement, not until she sighs and tries to physically push past him with the box in her hands."
"The oaf leans in, if only a little, “Aw come on. What is it? Do you want me to say something nasty instead?”
"Sexual harassment is alive and well in hell."
"She makes a disgusted sound and uses the box as a barrier as she struggles to push at his bulk until she narrowly gets past him. She’s nearly jogging from there all the way back to the checkpoint and the elevator that will spell relief from the pit, until five p.m. when she has to do the routine all over again."
"As has often been stated before, hell truly is repetition."