Unfixable Logan

Logan heard the heavy breathing and the pounding of the metal grating and knew that someone was racing up behind him. He surmised easily that it would be Jean.

“Wait, Logan!” the familiar voice called out. Logan turned. Jean stopped, and when their eyes met, she instinctively shot her gaze downward to her beat-up baby blue sneakers.

“I’m sorry,” Jean said sheepishly. “For pulling you into that.”

“I am also sorry,” Logan lied. “That I could not help your mother.”

It was quiet. In the distance, the synchronized shuffling of Garans aimlessly wandering the corridors made a rhythmic sound. Logan looked longingly towards the door.

“I must go now,” he said.

Jean finally looked up.

“Can I come with you?” she asked.

“Humans are not allowed in the Garan sector,” Logan said.

“What?” Jean was surprised to hear this. “That’s absurd. Garans are allowed in the human sectors.”

“No, we are not,” Logan said plainly, and walked determinedly towards the large metal door, answering the call of his people’s footsteps.

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