Rotting fruit and excrement is hard to carry, but rotten eggs carry easily in a scarf or bag as long as you are careful. I don’t know what was worse... the pain as the egg hit my body or the smell which immediately engulfed me.It was like being stoned with soft stones. The eggs broke when they struck my skin, but they still hurt. I screamed as someone made a direct hit on my breast. Then I realized that some of the eggs were landing more softly, but directly on my stomach. The women were lobbing. Her tight leotard was damp with perspiration and her sandy blonde hair clung to her neck. Kurt passed through cleaning up some of the free weights that had been left out. She noticed that he watched her as he worked, the construction crew stole glances at her as well. In the mirror she could see her nipples stiff and sensitive under the stretchy spandex. All the male attention was having its effect elsewhere as well. She kept remembering the occasions where Kurt had been working late and they. She had neither heard nor seen any movement that might have signaled the man’s approach. He evidently moved as if he were a ghost.“I’m sorry. I really did not mean to startle you,” the man said softly to her with a smile of understanding. She also saw a touch of mischief in his eyes, almost as if he were just a bit too satisfied with his ability to move so quietly.“Maynard ... Mr. Keyes ... my floor boss, asked me to check with Mr. Pittman about the scheduled arrival of these items,” the man. “Do it,” she demanded, her leg throbbing. She had been out of pills for the pain for nearly a week now and didn’t care if some weird folk tale killed her.With a sigh, he leaned forward and buckled the collar around her neck. She waited for something to happen, to feel different inside, but ... nothing.“I thought this was supposed to change me?” she asked.“Take time. Magic never an exact science, Kisa.” He coughed, his face briefly turning bright red. “We will know in a day or two.”The apartment.