A long barecorridor stretched out in front of me. It was gently lit from an unknownsource. I shut the door behind me and walked. I walked for a while,...eeing nothing. I was beginning to be thirsty. Suddenly a cornerappeared and round the corner was a water fountain. I wanted to sit fora moment. I was about to sit on the floor, but another corner appeared,and round that corner was a chair. I sat. Was it really possible that if I thought of something I wanted itwould appear? Suppose I wanted a. Your eyes are blue-grey like Pennsylvania slate, so dark they must turn black with emotion, set in a face that reminds me of every Viking hero I ever read about in trashy romance novels. You're fingering the long curl you liberated, smoothing it between your fingers, and then you tuck it behind my ear with a sheepish, boyish smile."I'm Tomas," you say softly, and offer me your hand. I take it, your long, thin fingers wrapping around my gloved hand and squeezing gently. You have an accent, light. It had clicked between them. It had been her first time trying this sort of thing, encouraged by her husband whose health had prohibited any sexual activity, he had wanted her to have an outlet. Thinking of that night the flames that had burst from the words typed into the chat window, as if every movement was choreographed. She had felt those words as if his actual physical being were there with her. His tongue plunging into her mouth his other hand caressing her neck pulling back her long. As I looked at it all, it crossed my mind if it was even safe to eat.“Fuck this shit!” I said aloud to the room.When I got to our room, I could hear the shower going, so headed to our bathroom. The door was locked, we never locked the door.After a couple of rattles, I said, “Right,” and went to my bedside table and grabbed a pen.The lock was the sort that had a safety hole on the outside, where you could just push something into the hole, and it would unlock the door. As I popped the lock and.