The glass shaft twinkled in a stray sunbeam, as if winking at her. She peered at the price again. Ridiculous! Maybe, if it was still here come payday.....It was.Allison hurried home, much-smaller paper bag nestled discreetly in the bottom of her secondhand Vuitton handbag.Alone in her dinky living room, she reverently unwrapped her prize. It was oddly cool to her touch. This was no toy, like that silly, absurdly pink thing Miranda had given her. This was weighty, solid, serious. The blunt torpedo. I move up to her quietly and frown a 'what's up?'She leans in close and whispers "It's Tink. I got that much out of her. She's sobbing in there, somethings wrong, baby." 'kay." I drop down onto my back, grab the bottom of the door, and slide in under. All I can see is the ceiling, but I feel shoes against my head."What's up, Tink?" I ask in a quiet voice, "Trying to get out of World History again?" G'way!" "Fucking g'way!" Can't, Tink. Cam won't let me and you know what she's like when she gets. More

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