| posting 20050825 [message #118173] |
Do, 25 August 2005 22:19 |
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I was finishing up my client triage when Miranda buzzed me. "Mr. Stein," she
said. I could count the times she called me Mr. Stein on one hand, without
having to use my thumb or index finger. "Amanda Hewson is here."
"You're kidding," I said.
As it was, it hit the pool like a bus, and I was hit by a tidal wave of sudd
enly hot pool water. Steam fumed from where it dropped, in the deep end. I r
egained enough of my senses to wonder how much the pool damage was going to
cost me, and if meteor strikes were covered by my home insurance. I doubted
they were. Several pool lights had been extinguished by the impact; I went b
ack to the door and turned it off, so as not to have electrified water, and
then turned on the main patio lights to get a closer look at the damage.
"Isn't that the name of your friend that's always calling?" Miranda said.
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