I didn’t expect to be home this early that day because we usually had band practice for three hours, but the teacher’s wife broke her leg or somet...ing. Anyways, it was Sally’s (by the way, that’s my sister’s name) senior year. When I walked in the house, I saw two pairs of rugby shoes on the doormat. This was strange, boys weren’t ever allowed to be at the house.I heard creaking coming from Sally’s room. I walked slowly up the stairs on my toes. Her door was closed, but I knew how to peak into. "Fuck me," I exclaimed. "I look hot." Not the sort of language I'd expect to hear from a lady's mouth,"laughed Nicki, "but I will admit that you do make a surprisinglyattractive woman."And I admit that I did feel a stirring "down below" as my male parts madetheir well tucked presence felt. What was causing this reaction, I don'tknow. Perhaps it was the blonde hair with its loose curls cascading downonto my shoulders that reminded me of Cameron Diaz, a poster of whom onmy bedroom wall had. In those days Ana had her own car broken and had been going to her office on a bus. But that Friday evening she called me telling she was too tired for a bus ride and asked me if I could pick up her on my way home.I could be there at seven, because that day I had a lot of pending paperwork to deal. But I was very lucky; energy fell down on the building and of course all computers were also down, absolutely useless for any task. So, I grabbed my car keys and went down to the parking lot at the. By reflex she picked up the long knife in an entirely different grip, one that felt much more familiar, and was intended for an altogether more sinister purpose. Her mind drifted, and she was suddenly reliving a sharply distinct memory from her past.The wind whistled past her cheeks as she clung to the top of the hover train. Thick smoke was billowing from the first class carriage ahead of her, a gaping hole blown in the roof by the explosives she’d just set and triggered. Her artificial lung.
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