Sharon quickly realized that when she flew the man, she was acting purely on instinct. Landing on the top of a traffic light in the deserted suburbian landscape (it was about two in the morning, after all) she tried to decide what to do. One possibility was to go to the police station: her own body was more than enough evidence for the strange story she had to tell. Another possibility was to wake Jim up and hope that either he or one of his techno-freakish friends knew a way out of the situation.
Just when Sharon considered this possibility, she noticed that for some reason her skin had begun to emit a yellowish warm glow, not very strong but enough to make her more visible than she liked. A lonely car passed by without noticing her. Since it was going downtown, Sharon thought it a good idea to dive down and use the car's wake to get out the menacing shadow of the BlackCo building.
After just a little while, Sharon began to feel sick from the car's exhaust. Her antennae were much more sensible than her nose, and she was glad to fly off the car when it passed by a small park. Despite the change of scale -- the world seemed so much bigger and mysterious now! -- she could recognize her wereabouts. Jim's house was a handful of blocks away, so now it was a good time to reconsider her options -- also because, pixie or not, something her size wasn't safe in a neighbourhood that she knew to be full of alley cats.
Thu Sep 2 18:52:41 1999
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