“Tia.”“A pleasure,” Simone said, taking Tia’s hand and holding it for a few seconds. Her touch was pillow-soft and warm as August lakes. “...ou have a lovely shop.”Tia noticed a boombox-sized object in Simone’s left hand.“Thank you,” Tia said, blushing at a compliment from a pretty stranger. “Are you looking for anything specific?”Simone shook her head, tossing jet black curls from side-to-side, and said, “I’m curious: where did you acquire so many wonderful pieces?”“Actually, I found a lot of. Actually looking at what lay beyond them was out of the question.If I wanted to entertain even the illusion of survival, of a future.Everything that I looked upon in the workroom before me served as a stark reminder of why she needed to die. One perversion upon another, leading off on an unwholesome tangent of abominations long past the territories of behavior and innovation that any man had business exploring. Her latest dictates seemed as if she were compounding the degradation and madness. More

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