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I was shaking like a leaf, my stomachroiling in reaction to my panic.Work, I prayed. Please, god, let it work.But it didn't.An hour later I was sitting slumped on the sofa in the computer roomlooking glumly at the little silver box where it sat on the table infront of me, while Julia read an article off the net. I'd stoppedlistening to her a while ago. Nothing had worked on the box, no amountof poking and prodding and tickling, not even beating it with a chair.Hardly surprising, that, for an object which had probably surviveduncontrolled atmospheric entry without a scratch.And what Julia had found online boiled down to one thing. I was stuckwith no way out. If you knew what to look for, the information was easyto find. There had been other MAUs. None had worked longer than fourdays. None had ever worked after that time period.There was always the possibility I might find another box, of course.Vanishingly small chance, that. But a faint hope. Would it be enough tokeep me going?I'm. She was beautiful, I thought. Curly hair hung in thick rings just below her shoulders, accentuating her alabaster skin. Her figure was hidden beneath the simple white cotton dress that hung below her knees, d****d over the device she was sitting on. Her feet protruded below, resting on metal pedals. She was barefoot and had recently had a pedicure – her toenails were painted bright red, matching her lipstick.Whore red, I thought.A swarthy man dressed in a black suit and white shirt stepped onto the raised stage, a microphone in his hand. She glanced nervously at him, again licking her lips before looking down at the floor in front of the hidden device she was seated on. She was clearly embarrassed, unable to look directly at the men in the audience.The man raised the microphone to his mouth. "Greetings everyone," he said in a loud, cheerful voice with a slight Mexican accent. "Are you having fun?"The men in the audience clapped politely."I SAID – ARE YOU HAVING FUN?"This time they.
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That lasted about half an hour, though, which is probably also normal. Harper had gone off to her studio, leaving Hannah and me alone in the kitchen. There was what they call “a pregnant silence” between us. Maybe that’s because both of us realized how close things had come to “pregnant” being employed in a different manner. Or maybe we were just reacting to the oddity of the whole situation. Hannah and I had both been raised in a culture that frowned on what had just taken place ... in more than one way.Eventually, though, we were able to let our eyes meet without looking away immediately.“Tell me how you feel?” I finally asked.“I have no idea,” she said.“Understandable,” I said.“How about you?” she asked.“I could tell you, but I don’t think you’d appreciate it,” I said, truthfully.“You enjoyed it,” she said.“Yeah,” I sighed. “Maybe I’m not normal.”“Not being a man, I wouldn’t know about that,” she said. “Something jaded in me suspects, though, that any other man would have done the.

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