This choice: You go to your apartment, smart enough not to follow shiny lures. • Go Back... author: UnderHerToes
You let the allure of the morning star pass by and recede into the distance with a weakening wake, a fading smile, and a minor memory of the encounter. Her red dress and blonde hair become mixed among the incoming and outgoing commuters and with a single blink, she's gone into the grey. She was perfect in every way, an ideal woman for the transposer's power, but she was also a perfect stranger, and you are wise enough not to invest in unknown variables.
You shake your head with a sigh, the faint taste of regret on your breath. You push onward, climbing all of the four steps to your apartment building door. The broken lock never felt as comforting as it does with this turn of the handle, and you are sucked inside with sudden gust of wind. Swiftly, you shut the front door behind you and fumble with keys to unlock the more challenging inner door.
Through the wooden floor, a familiar skipping pattern plays in soft thumps. You look up from your key ring to see Lacy, your excitable, flirtatious, happy-go-lucky neighbor from the apartment below yours, bounding down the stairs in her usual, barefoot hopping style. Lacy carries a basket of laundry under one arm, but lets it all fall to earth when she notices you trapped between in and out. She hurries over to the door, pressing her yellow tube-top wrapped bosom and bare midriff against the glass as if in some cartoon accident.
Eventually though, she does open the door for you, talking on about how glad she is to see you today and how she misses you terribly and how you haven't been to any of her parties in ages. By your count, you've only attended three of her raucous no-reason celebrations, where alcohol and free-love seemed to permeate the apartment atmosphere more than detergent could clean.
Lacy kneels down in front of you, her tight jeans almost tearing at the seams as she carelessly tosses one escaping, revealing garment after another back into the tipped basket. Her short, messy hair stirs as she spins her head to see you, "Hey, I was about to go do some laundry, Scott," she laughs, "as if that wasn't obvious! But you know how long that takes, and I have nothing to do until it gets done, which takes a while, right. So, if you're not doing anything now," ah, finally, here it comes, "maybe we could go do something together? You know, like, something?" | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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