The lovely Dasia put me onto this awesome idea.
Five sentences? I can do that. A few times, in fact!
The prompt word is "clandestine" which I am being very, er, liberal with.
She could not face the sky before. It was simply too big. Ever since they came, she could take more and more stars into her view. Then, the last one came and she could see nothing at all; not really. The whole world became a dishwater blur, radiating out from the moon.
Deep into the alleyway, past the cats and their sport, past the sailors and theirs; there lay a heap of rags. You watch it for several days, it doesn't move, but every day it grows. Layer upon layer of, what, dresses? They appear to be stained with... Oh.
"She's here, sir." She comes into the vast white room, pulsing with the hum of the machines. He sits at a table made of real wood, eating what could only be an apple. She holds the paper out in front of her. The scent is intoxicating.
Peace, skulls and Earl Grey Tea