Drats!
By Eve Morton
Savannah Price heard the crash before she actually saw anything. She was at her desk in Jungle World’s main office, only a stone’s throw away from the mess hall and the kitchen, going through the many invoices that she still did not understand, when the sounds of ceramic breaking and curses filtered through her window.
Great, she thought. Yet another bill to pay later.
As she rose from the desk, there was metal clanging and screaming, the kind of high-pitched ones that she’d only heard in the movies from women jumping on chairs when they saw a mouse. As humorous as that image was, the deep baritone voice that followed the cries informed her of the actual issue. One of the kitchen workers, Sheldon, was telling Amber, one of the counselors for the kids’ camp at the z
