From: DINKSTHS@URIACC.URI.EDU (Brian B.)
Subject: June Nights
Date: 17 Feb 1994 12:31:53 -0600

                           June Nights
                           ~~~~ ~~~~~~

     Burgundy suede jeans, tight.  Nails painted to match.  Killer
look, style of the Street.  The easy life of the Street; like
hell...
     I met her at The Atlantic Club.  She was a prospective
employee, I was the exec in charge of hiring her.  She was the best
cowboyin New York City, ran in the Matrix like she was born there.
     Her black cotton tee, my white silk shirt.  Hers stolen, mine
imported.
     From the moment I saw her, I knew she could do the job.  I
knew she could crack United BioEnergy.  We had a few drinks.  Vodka
Splitters, bartender's specialty.
     Glittering tower of silver.  My apartment.  Calfskin easy
chair.  She fell into the overstuffed chair, lost in brown leather.
Vids, Chinese takeout, champagne.  One million dollar contract.
Swiss bank account, photosynthetic power, her plump breast.  On the
calfskin chair we made wild love through the night.
     In the morning she was gone.  Sunlight filtered through
mirrored glass.  Three data chips and a note.

United Bio was as easy as you
said it would be.  Here are the
blueprints.  I expect payment by Friday.
                              -238196
PS Last night was fun.

     I looked at a wall clock. 1300, June 4, 2031.  At work I ran
the tapes through the computer.  39 files, 1 corrupt.  Corrupt file
unfixable.  Run corrupt file.

                         ILOVEYOUILOVEY
                         OUILOVEYOUILOV
                         EYOUILOVEYOUIL
                         OVEYOUILOVEYOU

Delete corrupt file.  Corrupt file deleted, 0 files remaining.
     Carangus, Booster nightclub.  Looking for trouble.  Joygirls,
puppets;whores;cheap.  I saw her there, across the club: I turned
away.  Looked up.  She was looking into a dark glass of acid wash.
Sad eyes.  Hungry eyes.  Sip acid, look at the dazzling, dancing
lights.  I looked away again.  Looked up.  She was right beside me.
The dark glass was gone and so was the dazzled look of the diluted
hallucinations.  I dropped my head, but it was too late.  Eyes met.
I was drawn in by the power of the warm eyes.  Sad eyes, wise eyes.
She cracked a faint smile, brilliant white teeth glowing under
ultraviolet lights.
     "Joe, Tequila Sunrise, two; now."  Moments later two colorful
drinks appeared on the table.  "I'm very upset with you.:
     "Why?"  I felt  sweat collect under my collar.
     "I broke into your corporate computer this afternoon."
     "So?"
     "My files weren't there."
     "I didn't copy them on yet."  I wiped sweat from my brow.
     "Yes you did."
     "No, I--"
     "You executed my virus, deleted my file."
     "It was only a corrupt file."
     "Don't fucking try to tell me you didn't read it!"
     "I didn't."
     "Fucking hell you didn't!"  She brought her glass up and
across my face.  Fragments of glass flew through the air.  I
screamed out in pain.  Brought a hand to my face, felt the
fragments in flesh.  Blood painted my hand red.  I looked at her.
A tear streaked across her right cheekbone.
     "You're..."
     "I'm fucking crying."
     "I mean you're..."
     "I'm crying, okay, I'm fucking crying!"
     "I... I read the file."
     "I know."
     "And I... I deleted it."
     "I know."
     "What does this mean now?"
     "I don't know."  Silence.
     Blood dripped down onto my silk shirt.  "This bloodstain is
going to be a bitch to get out."  SHe smiled from under a mask of
sadness.  Her eyes no longer had thier familiar sparkle.  Silent
eyes.  Vacant eyes.  Empty.
     With a shredded napkin I wiped away a tear from her face.
"You're the one that's fucking bleeding, Love, I can handle a
little saline."
     "I thought--"
     "That's your problem, you thought!  I'm from the Street, we
don't think, we can't.  We can't just stop everything and think."
     "I thought it was a joke, the file, I mean."
     "Is that all you think of me as is a joke!"
     "No.  But..."
     "But what!"
     "But we just met, we're from two different worlds, how could
we possibly..."
     "Kiss me."
     "What?"
     "I said kiss me."
     "Why?  I--"  Her ruby lips met mine.  I STOPPED THINKING.
     "Better?"  She had a smear of blood on her cheek.  My blood.
     "I... I understand now."
     "Then you stopped thinking."
     "I love you, but..."
     "Thinking again."
     "I can change."
     "Don't."
     "I won't."  The sparkle was back in her eyes.  The burgundy
nails scanned his bloody face.
     "You should have a doctor look at that."
     "Naw, doesn't hurt, really."
     "You're changing."  A look of disappointment crossed her face.
     "I know."  She smiled.  Ran a hand through her dark brown
hair.  "C'mon, there's another bottle of champagne back at my
apartment."
     "I know, but I was thinking of..."
     "See, now you're thinking."
     "Joe, that bottle of champagne I was saving!"
     "You were what?"
     "I have something to tell you."
     "What?"
     "Y'know the other night, we, um..."
     "Yes.  What?"
     "I'm, uh, pregnant."  The bartender brought the champagne and
two glasses.
     "To us."
     "Yes.  To us.  To the future.  However dark it may be.

                                        21 September 1993
                                        Brian Brazil