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o soon and me so
late? Why could we not have never met?
But: "I don't care," he is saying. "I'll wait for you. I've waited
this long, I can wait longer. I can be very patient -- for you. I'll
always wait."
And I trust him, knowing the vow for true, and melt into his arms,
on an unseasonably hot Saturday morning in early May of my twelfth
year...
Oblivion.
Sometime later, I surrendered to reality -- something I'm very
practiced at -- and stirred.
The damned machine was prompting me.
>
"No. Terminate."
>
A moment of disorientation, to reorient me, and then the Sensor
Wrap unpeeled itself. I removed the LexSpun mask. My face was damp.
I ached when I moved. Standing was a chore. I walked to the door of
my special room. "Lights out." The living room was still dark. How long?
The clock said it had been less than an hour. I poured another splash of
the brandy, gulped it, felt the heat of it in my belly, then poured
another.
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