[going through old papers]
After a long day of hopping, she discovered that her knee had grown an overhead projector.
"It really works," she typed into her Motorola Razor.
>send
Clarence did not reply, and immediately she knew why.
>contacts
>Home
"Hi, mom? Clarence is dead. Yeah, he probably never made it off the plane. Okay, uh-huh, alright. Okay. I'll be home by five."
Great, now she had to stop and buy milk. Already the overhead projector was weighing her down. She had trouble getting into her car. Why had she insisted on the Mini Cooper? No matter; she was in and backing out of the parking spot.
Soon she became aware of a deep aching, now an intense burning pain she'd never felt before, shooting through her...through her...what? Oh, the cord! She felt it dragging on the pavement outside, pinched by the driver's-side door. Clarence was a fool; this was no way to save money on office supplies. She was glad he was allergic to peanuts.
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