Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt. It happens often enough I should be better at it or at least have better stories: I'm fast asleep and the phone starts buzzing. To add to the fun, I'd fallen asleep with a book on my face (here's to paperbacks!). I fumbled it away and groped for the phone with my eyes still shut. It could be a wrong number, you know.
It was, but not in the way I was hoping. I reached out, whacked the big PHONE switch - I've had to replace the thing twice in the last year - and mumbled, "Whoizzit?"
The voice that replied wasn't especially familiar but the words woke me the rest of the way like a cup of coffee in the face: "Miz --ah-- 'Feynman'?"
Crap. Crap crap crap. Busted. "Wrong number!" I reached for the switch.
"Don't hang up! You are in great danger! We all are."
[STORY CONTINUES AT "I WORK ON A STARSHIP"]
Update
2 days ago
1 comment:
Oh, noes! The lovely Bobbi is in peril! What will she do?
This is getting good. No, better than good.
I would suggest a rewrite on that whole pressure suit paragraph. It's pretty dense with information, and breaks ups the narrative flow you had going.
Or maybe it was just me distracted by the idea of our heroine wearing a form fitting pressure suit . . .
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