Pickled Kept, a ficlet (@dahob)

The first breath felt like he’d been drowning, although he hadn’t been able to drown since he was a kid. Munroe took a ragged second breath and a third before he even opened his eyes.

There was a glass panel inches from his face, and there was fluid of some sort down by his feet-fins. He blinked a few times, clearing his eyes. He was in some sort of cave, stone all around, and there were dozens of tubes like his lined up around the room.

He’d been talking to a woman in the market. That was the last thing he could remember. And now…

The glass slid away. A woman – that woman – stepped into view. She was smiling. “Oh, good. You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

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