*Rhys*
“And if I could please just have seven million from the crown, the retaining wall…” the private engineer droned on in his recorded video petition on my three-screen monitor setup.
I tried not to fall asleep while the lulling voice of the engineer talked about water runoff. More dreams, more intense than before and still plagued by fire-breathing monsters, kept me awake at night and jolted me awake from naps during the day.
It was becoming harder and harder to screen the petitioners because the e-mails, voicemails, and video recordings were all mixing together in a soup of sleepiness. I couldn’t remember the last time I got more than a whole hour of sleep.
Just as I was about to give up for the day, Daxton came traipsing into my office with a gobsmacked look on his face. “Rhys,” he said, waving a piece of paper in the air, “you got a letter.”
“Contracts go in that pile there, general kingdom business there… Does it need to be signed right away or something?” I asked.
