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The First Moment

The glass conference room door open and soft footsteps move inside and then closed the door.  A pair of shiny, black patent leather shoes crossed the section of floor I studied.  They stopped a few feet away from me.  My gaze followed the owner’s legs up.  His black dress pants were pressed and starched to perfection.

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*evil laugh*

Yeah not. I have my own special brand of crazy and it lurks in the forefront of my mind. I live my life as a programmer – loving my job. Writing as a hobby to express my creativity – to live outside my own mind. A thing I’ve done since childhood; except now playing with toys is not exactly “adult”, so I write.