Tick- TockMeghan Punschke
In smug perfection he chucks mental tidbits in her direction, but she will not grab them. He is oblivious. The white noise of biology, buzzes steadily in her head, It is the bleak biographer screening future events as the distant past… And she is lying cold, (without good purpose) in Gaea's heavy grasp. She used to be smarter. At present she prefers to find merit in frivolous chitchat— images of Alpha babies blocking her aptitude. If only he'd abate his brain, and enjoy sexual pleasure just long enough to create another him. One who could not project as much.
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