The Dark Sire Issue 3 (Spring 2020) | Page 32

with aggrieved violence while considering how much of a hint of nipple was too much. Taking a break from the pop star breasts - the left one was proving especially problematic - she wandered through the office to the mail tray. This was purely an exercise in avoidance; she hadn't received a paper message in months. The mail tray was merely a nostalgic monument to a bygone era, kept alive by the occasional arrival of junk advertising. The paper flowed in a perfect cycle, printer to distributor to mailbox to waste bin to recycling and then back to paper, all without the need for a single human being to ever read it. However, there was, to her surprise, a real letter for her. In pen. Slitting the flap with her long red polished, and only partially bitten thumb, nail she took out the short note. "Sarah, I have been where you are. I imagine you believe that all is well, but you are deceiving no one but yourself. Now is your chance to do something while you still have a job and home. The answer isn't AA or 12 Step. This man can help. Take this card with you." 30