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A Simple Procedure

My buddy tells me about this great deal on a dose of telekinesis. Unlicensed, but cheap. And quality. No shakes, no freezing, no brain blowouts. He tells me about this guy who had it done. It was like he had a dozen extra hands. Upped his output at the chip fab 300 percent. This guy made employee of the month and his boss gave him an all-expense paid trip to New Bermuda. They never knew a thing while this guy lounged on bleached-out sand, sipping mojitos out of a diamonique glass. I could use that kind of boost, and bad. Ever since they went to per-unit pay at the factory my check has been shrinking like the ice caps. One injection of serum will double, even triple my output. read more...


The rubbery squeak of snow under sole, the bite of frigid air in the lungs. Tires crunching, cars gliding on packed ice like drunen skaters. The city crystallized by a freak winter squall, by a dozen or so inches of powder. Anne brings her mittens to her face, blows warm air through their woven wool palms to defrost her fingers. Her breath swirls back onto her face, soothing her frosty cheeks and nose. It’s stale and sour, tinged with coffee and the sharp scent of a dozen geriatric prescription drugs drifting lazily through her system. Some wine, too. Always the faint aroma of box wine, like sour grapes mixed with bathroom cleaner. She looks through clear gray eyes at the snow-drenched Hollywood, Portland. read more...