April 11

“I’m good,” I say. I glance at the clock. The Quick Stop is going to be crowded as hell at three thirty, so she’ll likely be gone for much longer than five minutes. “Have a safe trip. I’ll keep your check warm for you.”
Kyle grins. “Easiest money I ever made,” she says. Apparently she does have priorities. She grabs her keys off of the hook and lets herself out of the apartment.
“And now, Mister Time Traveler,” I say, once I peer out of the window and see Kyle’s ponytail bobbing down the sidewalk, “we can get down to the truth of your visit.”

Perspective can often change how you look at someone. I’m fairly tall, so my perspective usually has me looking down in order to stare someone in the eyes. I hesitate to say that I look down on everyone; that’s not really all that true. I look down at people, but not down on them. I only look down on people who deserve to be looked down upon.
I’m looking down on Bert Recall right now. It’s not because he’s shorter than I am. Quite the contrary, when he’s not on his knees, he’d probably be about my height. But his coat is crumpled between his legs, and he’s… I can’t believe this. He’s actually sobbing. A grown man, old enough to have a noticeable bald spot on the back of his head, has thrown himself at my feet with tears in his eyes. I wonder if someone’s getting back at me for my crack about being a goddess.

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