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2712This is not fiction...

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  • Wocket
    May 2, 2001
      This is not fiction...

      I lounged back, eyes moving around the room, a drink in one hand, my
      other hand longing for a cigar I wasn't allowed to smoke. The others
      where standing near me, talking and catching up on anything they
      might have missed over the last week or so. My clothing itched. I'm
      not used to this formal ware stuff. I'm used to padding around
      barefoot in comfortable loose clothing.

      My sense of smell has always been good. Infact I tend to think in
      terms of smell and images. I'd never had any use for code or
      mechanics. When my dreams come they come with full vision, all senses
      intensified. I also tend to think in smell and vision. The smell of
      the old woman had already given me a viaual image of what I thought
      she looked like. I'd been pretty close.

      "Excuse me." The old woman was standing above me. I smiled up at her.


      "Is everyone from your group here? Don't you have another two? We can
      start delay the play just a little longer to wait for them."

      It was opening night, well the technical rehearsal, thus the cheap
      seats. There must have been at least twenty people in the play, not
      to mention technical support and she wanted to delay it all just to
      wait for two people who might not show up.

      "Screw `em," I said and stood up to refill my drink and walk into the

      It was ten minutes into the show before it hit me. I thought about my
      behaviour in the last half hour or so.

      I have been reading WAY to much x-men fic. You see I'm not Wolverine.
      I'm a 23 year old female multimedia instructorÂ…

      This was the third time I'd noticed a few habits I'd pick up from
      watching the movie and reading probably insanely high dosages of fan

      What can I say?

      Keep up the good work.