Fast Girls

“Say no? Say no? Duh, there’s a tough call, Rae. Gee, let me think about that. Would I want a Xerox of my self putting around in a scooter with your fat a…”


“No-no, don’t Violet me. Am I even Violet? What am I? Violet’s asleep in your room. I’m something else, some sort of shadow, a thing, a…a…a Frankenstein’s monster with wheels! Ohmigod, can I even die? This is too…”


“Don’t think you can talk your way out of this. This is not like the time you kissed Henry Kent by quote-unquote mistake. This is a whole ’nother level…”

“Violet!” Rae finally screamed into the com, “Can we talk later? We have company.”

“Huh-what?” Now instinctive protocols came to the surface showing two sedans on the proximity sensors. They’d been there for 78.3 meters of travel. Probability logarithms gave an 83% chance of intentional pursuit.

“Violet, we need to go fast now. Really fast.”

“Okay,” she answered, philosophical questions aside for the moment, “I’m good with that.”

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