Waltz of Her Life

Linda noticed that Marie was going out of her way to be especially nice to her.

She complimented her on how well the lasagna had turned out, and on how nice her hair looked that evening (when she'd just washed and dried it and to her it looked like straw). After everything was cleaned up and put away Marie said "We're going to the University 8 to see Star Wars later. Wanna come? My treat?"

"No, that's okay," Linda said. "I saw that movie this summer."

Later, she helped Lauren curl her hair and get ready for a party she was going to. While she twirled Lauren's thick locks with the curling iron, she said "You yelled at Marie, didn't you?" She was talking about the incident from a couple of weeks before, when Marie had hissed at her about clanging pans and plates too loudly when she was cleaning up after their party.

The remark surprised Lauren enough that she tried to turn quickly and face her.

"Ow!" The twirling curling iron pulled her hair before Linda had a chance to let it go. "Yeah, I did, kind of." They looked at each other through their reflections in the mirror.

"Well did you tell her to kiss my ass the next time I came over? Did you hear the way she was thanking me for the lasagna and saying my hair looks nice?"

"No. I didn't tell her. The lasagna was great and your hair looks beautiful, like always. When the hell are you ever gonna figure that out?"

Linda held a few locks of her hair. It was true, she supposed. She did have thick and healthy hair. Every stylist who'd ever worked with it told her so. Suddenly she remembered the dream about the glorious marble dance hall. "You won't believe what happened at the Dream Lab on Thursday night." She told her all about the striking man who'd made her heart melt with the way he led her through a waltz.

"Well that's cool, I guess," Lauren replied. "It sounds like something from a movie.

You know, those old black and white ones where everyone's dead."

"But I haven't even told you the craziest thing about it," Linda went on. "None of the sensors registered anything."

Lauren squinted, wrinkling her nose. "Sensors? What are you talking about? What do they have you hooked up to over there? Are they trying to turn you into the fucking bride of Frankenstein or something?"