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Date Posted: 22:31:15 12/02/02 Mon
Author: Walter
Subject: Slowly, Walter Patterson lifted his head from his desk.

Absently he peeled the forms stuck to his face loose and spit out the eraser lodged in the corner of his mouth. As daydreams went that last dream was far more epic in scale than most of his holonovels, even the interactive ones with other online writers, few that there were. Walt didn't even recall leaving the medlabs or coming back to his desk. There was the typical fantasizing about rescuing Kathryn from some menace or another, but that's when he went down the rabbit hole and through the looking glass, moreso even for him.

Sohn? Dichotomy? DimenScion? Words that were meaningless lingered in the subconscious of the desk clerk as he poured himself a cup of coffee and mildly swore as he singed his tongue. His imagination was really getting out of hand for there to be such lost time and disorientation. Parts of what he remembered were even dark and disturbing, avenues of thought he would never entertain, not about his beloved--

He hurled the coffee against the wall in a reflex of anger and frustration. Beloved? The girl didn't know he existed, nor would she if he kept retreating into his mind. There would be no menace, no mugger or supervillain or jerk ex-boyfriend for him to pummel and impress her. Reality wasn't like that. He had to make contact, real contact, and just talk to her, really talk to her and listen, really listen. That's how adults made connections. Twenty-something or no, Walter Patterson was very much still a frightened little boy, and the combination of awareness and powerlessness pissed him off no end. He'd talk to her, deal his cards, and move on if rejection was the hand she dealt back.

Later, though. For now he had to mop up this coffee before his supervisor came in. And he had a ton of paperwork to do. And an idea for another online story. Oh, and had he balanced his accounts yet? Checked his e-mail and deleted it all as it was all spam? Purpose soon dissolved into busyness as it always did, and any resolve or psyching up he had done were soon buried down deep inside himself once more, to fester and gnaw at his core, while he whistled and went about his life--no, his existence--as always....

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