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The routine was always the same; cabernet, very rare steak, baked potato, and my favorite Caesar salad. I never had to order. I just had to show up and control the pace of the meal. I was a woman of routine. The eyes that were locked on to mine were not part of the routine. There was a very good chance that a new pace was taking shape and I was going to have very little to do with how fast things would progress.A hint of a smile joined her captivating gaze. I half motioned to her, offering a. This was an inhospitable landscape, at the edge of the wastelands. Neither man nor beast nor any of the many vile creatures inbetween ventured here unless absolutely necessary. Beyond the spires lay the desert, which stretched on for ever and ever, home only to the wind and the rocks and the ghosts of forgotten gods, or so the elders said...And yet, here was a man, walking with long, confident strides out of the searing haze. He paused beneath the shade of a particularly mighty pillar and. .Nothing more. What else had happened?There was a tiny amount of light creeping in through somewhere behindme, perhaps from a door frame. My eyes were adjusting slowly to thedarkness, and I could make out some vague shapes. I was in a fairlysmall area, it seemed. It smelt musty, of old clothes. A cellar, ormaybe a garage? The floor under my feet was hard and solid, concrete Ithought from the way my soles tapped on it.I turned my attention from my surroundings back to my own -uncomfortable-. "That's my girl," Lakam said. "Now lets head down a couple of floors."The corridor was deserted, but then there were only a few tenants onthis floor. Lakam let out a loud Caw again and I froze. "Can you stop doing that," I said. "People will hear." Can't nobody hear me," Lakam said confidently. "I'm dead. I'm not evenhere to them, unless I want to be that is. And you can fuckin' talk tome all you want, they won't hear that either." What the hell?" I asked confused. "How does that work?" Well,".
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