“So if you managed to find the guy who was in the accident, would you be able to keep him from dying?” Tamaya inquired of her bathroom mirror. “No, way too pointed. I have to be more careful than that…” She had been trying to come up with what to ask for nigh half an hour, but nothing she came up with struck the proper balance of innocent, subtle, and useful. “Maybe, have you found a solution to the mental breakdown problem yet? No…”
“So… you seem fine to me. Are you fine?” Rick asked Keegan when he arrived on Wednesday morning.
“For now at least.”
“But it has been more than two weeks now, doesn’t that mean you’re clear?”
“No, two weeks was when the issues started to show up.”
“Oh…”
“I did get a bit of a rash on my face last night though. It wasn’t much of anything, but it was one of the later symptoms Tamaya told us about.”
“But that wasn’t necessarily related to the dying part though, was it?”
“Honestly I doubt they’d be able to tell what symptoms were related to what. It could just be a healing thing, or it could—” Keegan suddenly winced as the image of the truck taking a fast left turn flashed in his mind for an instant.
“You okay?” Rick’s query brought him back to the present.
“Um, yeah. I just… I have a bit of a headache,” insisted Keegan. “It’s nothing, really.”
Rick eyed him suspiciously for a moment. “If you say so,” he finally conceded.“ Just don’t keep it all to yourself if it gets serious.”
“How about we just get to work.”
I really ought to post something programming related on this blog again, it has been forever…
‘Till later
-David
chipgw.com 