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A Worse Idea 65

The call didn’t wake Anne up, because she hadn’t been asleep. Instead, she’d been in that half-awake, half-asleep daze she’d gotten so used to.

Laying in bed on her stomach, she reached for the cell on her nightstand. Her hand hit nothing but wood. She slapped her hand on the wood some more. She found her alarm clock, but no phone.

She flipped onto her back, slapping the table with her other hand.

She looked at the nightstand, but didn’t find the cell.

She realized the phone was ringing in her jeans.

She’d taken the jeans off earlier in the night, suspecting they were what was keeping her up. (Turns out it wasn’t the jeans that were keeping her awake, it was murderous guilt; haha isn’t it weird how that happens sometimes?)

She rolled out of bed, literally. This led to her falling onto the floor, but rolling just seemed so much easier than actually getting out of bed. She crawled over to her jeans, which still lay on the floor. Eventually she reached them, stuck her hand in the jean pocket, and pulled out the phone.

“Hello?” she said, speaking into the phone.

“Anne,” Prometheus said.

“Why are you calling me at buttfuck o’clock?” she asked. It probably wasn’t proper etiquette to use the word ‘buttfuck’ in front of one’s boss, but Anne didn’t really care. Especially not when he’d called her at buttfuck o’clock.

“Are you sitting down?” Prometheus asked.

In that moment, Anne realized Prometheus probably had something serious to say. She’d been so involved in her own feelings, that she hadn’t even thought about that.

“Sure,” she said.

“It’s Shade,” Prometheus said.

Anne felt oddly conscious of her heart. It was beating so loudly. She wasn’t sure whether it was going quickly or slowly. One second she thought it beat a hundred times, the next she wasn’t sure it’d ever beat again. It went on like that — racing and then coming to a stop. In each of those stops she felt like her heart was a car that’d sped straight off a cliff, and it was hanging in mid-air, just waiting to crash. But somehow the car didn’t crash. It found the road again.

Somehow.

“She…” Prometheus continued.

“I know. I… You basically just told me.” Anne struggled to swallow a bit of saliva. Finally, she did. “Shade’s dead.”

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2 comments on “A Worse Idea 65

  1. So uhm, I just read the entirety of a bad idea, and I gotta say I want more man. I really enjoy our main man Anne and the dumb superheroes and the death, but wow bummer on the shade dying
    Oh well guess Anne’s gotta do the revenge

    Like

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