There is something wrong with the sound of her feet as she moves toward him. Her movement, too, seems unnatural. Every step is slow, calculated. The actions almost symmetrical. One hand goes to his shoulder, the other to his cheek. The cracks around Laura's eyes fold together; her lips pull into a tight smile. She plants a brief kiss on his cheek. Hands pull away, and slowly clasp together. Taking a step back, her smile opens. "Time is not all that you think."
If one were to consult the matrix, the syntax of the moment was speared by a (101) Traxian Index, the three dimensional (3D+1D) structure of time parted by a wedge of foreign “intelligence.” Panic throughout the capitol. Not since the days of the Great Vampires, had the syntax broken.
Rassilon’s miasm parted, and Narvin
-witnessed-
a foreign moment. Chakras are a lie on the Orthorhombic plain, as witnessed by Cardinal Matxhalin in his monograph Four Proofs Against Existence.
Scarlet shaders separated the riotousness of black and white.
Laura smiled. He was not in Laura’s room.
And then he was back in his office, the Castilian shaking him. There was no enemy.
[You deserve this kind of response, Will]
