D. J. Reddall
Bio
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
Stories (247/0)
The Target
“It’s fine. I know it. We know it.” Her voice was firm, almost angry. We both knew she was lying. I knew I wanted to have children with her on the grey afternoon when we met. I know that sounds insane or sexist or awful in some way or other, but I don’t care. It’s the strange truth. Everything she did, and a surprising number of the things she said, solved a problem I hadn’t seen until she solved it. I don’t know about you, but serious, powerful intelligence really turns me on. She was almost frighteningly attractive in the lab. Wearing so much protective equipment that she could have been almost anyone, or anything, under there, and yet…I mean, it wasn’t like I wanted to have sex with her right away or anything. I’m not even sure I actually want to have children with anyone, if I’m honest. The point is that some people seem to deserve to go on, in one form or another. If I could help her to carry on, forever, I would.
By D. J. Reddall16 days ago in Fiction