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The moment
the idea flares in my head, I quickly smother it under another thought. A
heavy, resigned thought that I amplify until it drowns out anything else.
It's better this way.
To add to
the effect, I say it out loud. As I shuffle out the door, I mutter it
under my breath. "It's better this way. It was too scary. I'm not
ready for a relationship. Girlfriends are too much hassle. Women are just
trouble. I can't be tied down. I need my space, my freedom. It's better
that I don't even know where she is."
As I step
out into the white room, I hear the grind of a fax machine. I slowly turn
around. Mr. Safeway is standing in the doorway with a sheet of paper in
his hand. I glance down at the message printed on it. It simply says:
"Tell him."
"There has been a slight
change in my orders," Mr. Safeway says. "Ms. Miriam Harris has been
transferred to..."
As soon as I am back on the
escalator, I grin, and whisper, "Suckers."
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