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Featured Author - May R. Betty Tarrill Story of the week: View past Author's of the Month |
One minute, thirty-two seconds. That’s how long it took. Not that she was counting, or anything. He finally spoke. “Laura…Laura.” Then he cleared his throat. She would have been tremendously impatient if she wasn’t relieved he was speaking at all. “I’m going to ask a few questions, okay? You understand this feels…weird.” “Of course.” She caught herself on saying anything else, adding one more word to that line. Not “Honey.” Not “Big Shot.” Not “Doc Naughty.” Not “Steven.” Nothing she had called him in their history, in their year together. She didn’t know exactly how tenuous this was, or what could set him off. “Who are you?” “Laura Ettinger.” “For how long?” He winced. That was almost as bad as “Where’s Laura?” She winced. A girl didn’t ever want to reveal her age. And who would want an older-model robot? “Six years, four months, seven days, three hours—“ “Oh!” He seemed both surprised and relieved. Not disappointed. That was a good sign. It was as much of a sign as he had given in the entire confrontation. “Oh. I mean, that’s…that’s right when you went to Middlebury, right? God, that must have been odd, being new on campus and actually, well, new.” He seemed to wonder about that for a moment, but she wouldn’t get off on that track right now. It would have to wait for another night. “I was worried that maybe you had come to me in the middle of everything, and, well, call me selfish, but I don’t want to share Laura with anybody. Even Laura. That’s how good you are.” |
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