The dance floor was packed and ponygirls were prancing the edges of it, hooking shots of synthetic adrenalin mixed with Biox for twenty credits a pop....ancing is dancing, like the way people have been doing it since the dawn of time, probably. A lot of jumping up and down, grinning, and generally bumping into hot sweaty people who were getting warmed up for some good sex later. Like everyplace on Broken Window, that sex usually happened in the middle of the dance floor, just cause it was easy. For now.I'd tell him about my eyes and we'd ponder about it, but I wouldn'ttell him about the baby. Not yet. Not until a little more time hadpassed. Until I was sure I was ready.I stroked my stomach, longing for the bump to start growing, to reachthe point when I could begin to feel safe; that it was real; that mydream was going to come true.Time passed but my eager and frightened excitement didn't. I couldn'tsettle. I didn't know what to do with myself. Eventually I stood at thewindow; my old. More

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