"FWLS39" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

across the room at your destiny' feeling? Weirdness.

"Gaah. Umm, I don't think so," I replied. She was looking
me over in the same way I just double-taked her. "Say, I have a
few CP poetry books at home... probably the same ones you do.
You can borrow them, if you'd like."

"I would... not enough money to get new ones," she laughed,
a little unsteady. "Which way is your place?"

"This way. Name's Justin, by the way."

"Sharon. Pleased to meet you."

*

I remembered about a week later that I was supposed to call
Cupid back. I had been a little distracted all week though, with
the dinner dates with Sharon and the nighttime reading of poems
by the fire... admittedly poems about thirsting for the taste of
virtual reality and screaming through the lines of data, but
poems nonetheless.

It was heaven. Kind of one of those separated at birth
things. The whole week was one of those getting on like a house
afire arrangements, with movies, dinners, late-night TV, a quick
hike in the countryside, and other things I'm not going to tell
you about.

I don't know how he did it, but he did it. That one person
theory of mine was proven true in spades.

"I gotta get to work," she said, interrupting my stream of
thought.

"Okay. When're you getting off?"

"Why?"

"Well, I managed to track down some tix to the Stomach
Contents concert..."

"You DID?!? But they sold out in fifteen minutes!"

"Where do you think I was last night?" I grinned. "I was
camping out in front of the tickettron."

"Alright! What row?"

"Kinda in the middle. Best I could do."