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ping in through the window and that was Miori's alarum clock this season.
But a few moments wouldn't matter. Squirmed and cuddled against a satiny
pillow.
It had been a nice party yesterday. They had talked about Sartre and CAD
programs and sex and war and got a little high. It was a wonderful thing
to have good friends. Not really friends actually, but colleagues and
acquaintances. And then that icecream was a great way to finish off. No
calories. None. Not one! Atleast that is what the label said, though
Andrew pickering claimed that it was just dishonest advertising.
Slight headache though. Never had one normally, though Miori Maijima remembered
waking up with a migrane several times in the last few weeks. Must have
drunk more than usual ... or maybe the icecream ... ummm. Miori Maijima dozed off
till the sun climbed a few inches and shone again on Miori's face. "Ngggh!"
Wriggled away from it again, but a sense of duty made Miori's turn around and lie back. Definitely a
hangover. Miori Maijima squinted painfully at the light and moaned.
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