As she walked into her office, sparks instantly began to fly, like the stuck up bitch she had turned into in the past couple of weeks, she attacked hi... right away. “What the hell do you want? Didn’t you get the memo, you’re not my intern anymore.” Then she reached for the intercom on her desk and pressed the button, “Melanie, didn’t you tell Mr. Webber that he now works in the cubicles downstairs?” Her words were greeted with silence, and so she glanced at her wall clock. ‘Damn! Of course she’s. I was certain that our two entities had come into contact before; we made love, and it was not the first time that we had ever made love, whether making love is any real action or whether such an idea is even existent in the reality of realities irrelevant, for this idea and action was taking place in the reality of current and seemingly most recent experience, and, I was sure, having taken place before, though I knew not how many times, in the past. I did not, however, remember anything about. More

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