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From: Ann Douglas <annd@pop.tiac.net>
Subject: AnnD: Sandy - (1/3) - MF/FF
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Hello once again.  As in the past, comments are both
appreciated  and encouraged.  Suggestions are also
welcome. Please respond by E-Mail as it makes it
easier for me to get your reaction.   One  thing I do
ask is that you now include your first name and age
in  your comments.  It gives me a better idea who
my audience is.  Thanks and enjoy the story.

	           -SANDY-
		  Part One
                      	By Ann Douglas

	"Hold the door!"  Sandy yelled as she
sprinted the last twenty feet to the rapidly closing
door of the Ferry's waiting area.. 
	With only a half foot to spare, the blonde
made it through, much to the disappointment of the
deck hand who got his kicks closing the door in
people's faces. Had she missed it, it would be a long
hour's wait until the next Ferry at 1:30 AM. No
sooner had she cleared the boarding  ramp when it
began to rise, freeing the Staten Island Ferryboat
Alice Austin to begin her journey across New York
Harbor. 
	Taking the late night boat was only one of
the problems Sandy Carradine had encountered
since going on her firms four to twelve shift about
five weeks before. Over a month and she still
couldn't get into sleeping during the day. In fact, the
fact that the school bus for the local Junior High
School was located right in front of her small
apartment house guaranteed that she would wake up
to the sound of two dozen teenagers beneath her
bedroom window every morning at 7:00.    
	Dropping her large carrybag onto one of the
hard plastic seats, Sandy dropped exhausted into
another. It had been another hot and humid August
day and the night had brought little relief.  The small
Ferry was pretty empty this time of night, relatively
speaking. At least it was a far cry was the two
thousand or so who took the early morning Ferry
ride she had been used to.
	"Damn Betty Palmer for getting pregnant!"
Sandy said under her breath. "It's her fault that I'm
on this stupid shift again."
	Six weeks ago, Sandy had been summoned
to her supervisor's office and told that since Betty
was taking early maternity leave, she would have to
replace her as the night shift supervisor.  The twenty
five year old had protested that she had only come
off the night shift six months before. Therefore  it
wasn't fair that she be sent back.  That if anything,
Steve Liebowitz, the new intern who would
eventually replace Betty on nights when her four
month tour was over, should just take over a little
early.
	The reply that she had gotten was that with
Betty's sudden departure, they felt it would be better
to have an experienced  hand at the helm so to
speak.  Liebowitz just wasn't ready for all that
responsibility. Fighting back her anger, Sandy had to
resist the sudden urge she had to tell them what she
would like to do with her experienced hand.
	So for the last month, Sandy had rearranged
her life to fit the new work schedule. With a few
bumps along the way, she had finally settled into a
more or less even routine. The only really great
problem now was her boyfriend, Peter Ryan.
	Sandy had been dating Peter for about three
months.  They had met through  Jim Anderson, a 
mutual friend, at a birthday  party for his wife. Sandy
was instantly taken by his rugged good looks and
electric personality.  Six years older, Peter had
looked into her deep blue eyes and asked her out
less than five minutes after they'd been introduced.
When they had gone out to dinner a few nights later,
it took all the former Catholic High School girl's self
control, not to jump into bed with him at the very
first opportunity. Instead she congratulated herself
on her self-control and jumped into the sack on their
second date. 
	That was where their newfound relationship
hit it's first speedbump. Peter Ryan may have been,
tall, handsome, athletic, and incredibly charming, but
astonishingly as it seemed, the man was absolutely
boring in bed. Never in her life had Sandy spent the
night with a lover so unimaginative.  Oh,  he wasn't
a virgin, and he did manage to get the job done. Yet
she sometimes wondered of his previous lovers had
been some kind of cross between  Mary Poppins and
Snow White. Whenever she had suggested they try
something a little interesting to spice up the night a
little, he quickly backed off the idea. One night he
had freaked when she had slid her cum-lubricated
finger into his ass during a round of some pretty
serious screwing. He nearly jumped out of bed and
yelled at her for even trying such a thing. That was
something that only "faggot's" did he had insisted. 
Try as she could, she'd been unable to regain his
interest or erection that night. 
	Now it had been almost three weeks since
they had slept together and Sandy couldn't wait until
Saturday night. That was the only day of the week
they could still see each other, and Peter had
canceled out the last two weekends due to sudden
emergencies.  He made no secret of the fact that he
was totally unhappy with the new arrangements, and
Sandy wondered if he had canceled their last two
dates just out of spite. She remembered the anger in
his voice when he had told her when she talked to
him last.
 	"It's not my fault that we only have one night
a week that we can go out. If you want to spend
more time together than you'll just have to find a
way to make the time."
	Sandy had been incredibly angry as she
slammed down the phone.  What did he expect her
to do --- quit her job?

	Pushing the angry memory to the back of her
mind, Sandy began to look about the small cabin and
take note of her fellow passengers.  It was a little
game she sometimes played, a way to kill time on
the twenty minute ride when she didn't feel like
reading.  She would pick out a person at random,
and try to make up a story about their sex life. It
was a silly game really, but it was fun sometimes. Of
course, during the daytime she had a lot more
interesting people to choose from. 
	Her selection finally narrowed down to an 
cleaning lady who looked like those old Russian
woman you always saw in the movies and a tall
Hispanic  woman in a crisp white nurse's uniform. 
Feeling a little naughty in her imagination tonight, it
had after all been so long since she'd be laid - she
picked the nurse.
	The woman looked to be about twenty-two
or three , with olive skin. Her hair was a soft reddish
brown, highlighted with gold.  The buttons of her
starched uniform were opened exceeding low,
revealing a more than ample bosom.  Sandy
wondered if she normally wore it that way or had
just opened it due to the dreadful heat.   Following
her gaze downward, Sandy noted the long slender
legs the seemed to go on and on. It was hard to
judge her height from a sitting position, but Sandy
guessed it to be about five foot nine.
	She must work at a hospital, Sandy thought,
or be a private nurse who covers a late shift for
someone.  A wicked smile came to the office
manager's face as she imagined the nurse giving
some dirty old man some tender loving care.  She
tried to imagine the body under the starched whites,
wondering how she made love to a man. Was it any
different?  There had  been three Puerto Rican  girls
in her high school class but Sandy hadn't been
friends with any of them. There were a number of
Hispanic  men and women who worked for the firm,
four on her night shift alone. But Sandy had always
had to deal with them in a supervisor/employee role
and such a relationship didn't easily lend to
friendship. 
	Eventually, the boat docked at Saint George
and  Sandy followed the small crowd through the
terminal to catch the next train southward.  She'd
passed the Nurse on the way out but didn't give her
a second glance. After all, the game was over and
she had to be sure and not miss her ride. Like the
Ferry, the SIRT only ran once an hour after
midnight. If she had noticed the woman in white,
she'd have seen the small smile on her red lips. 
Sandy's little game hadn't gone unnoticed.


	The next day was Tuesday, and it was a day
pretty much like any other. Sandy had tried to call
Peter several times but was always catching him in
conference or out. She knew he was avoiding her,
forcing her to decide between him or her job. Well
she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She'd teach
him to take her for granted. Wait until they went out
on Saturday night.  Even if she had to tie him down
to do it, Sandy was determined to give him the fuck
of his life. After that, lets see him ignore her. After
all, she remembered, at first he really wasn't keen on
the idea of her going down on him. Yet after only a
single demonstration, he quickly became a convert
to the idea. 
	The night passed rather quickly and midnight
soon came. Taking up an offer for a lift to the South
Ferry Terminal, Sandy had no trouble making the
twelve-thirty boat.  As was her custom, she took her
usual seat in the rear right section of the boat.  It
was funny, she thought how people always seem to
go to the same seats night after night, even when
there was so many empty seats. 
	In fact, since most of the people around her
were the same night after night, she usually looked
for the outsider to be the player in her game.
Bypassing the familiar faces, Sandy's sights stopped
for a moment on a tall olive skinned  woman in a
security guard's uniform.  
	"Now there's a lousy job to have,"  Sandy
said to herself. "Long hours, minimum wage."
	Discounting her as a player,  Sandy's
imaginary scope moved on.  After all, why pick the
same type of person two nights in a row. Finding no
one that struck her immediate interest, the blonde
was surveying the choices a second time when she
took a longer look at the security guard.
	"She's the nurse!"  Sandy exclaimed to
herself.  "The hair is black now and in a braid, but
that's the same woman.  I'm sure of it. How could
she be a nurse one day and a security guard the
next?"
	Determined to get a closer look to be sure,
Sandy waited until the Ferry began to get close to
port and people began to line up at the front of the
boat. That was another  thing she had never
understood. Why with only about a hundred people
onboard, a line would still form at the gangway
before they even docked. Whatever the reason, it
gave her an excuse to take a closer look at this
mystery woman.
	Pausing at the row just in front of the 
woman, Sandy leaned on an empty row of plastic
seats as if to steady her balance.  Taking a long, hard
look, she confirmed it was indeed the same woman
who had worn the nurse's whites the night before.
Right down to the bright red lipstick and the open
buttons on her blouse.  After a few seconds, the
woman looked up from her newspaper and smiled at
Sandy.  Embarrassed at being caught staring, the
blonde haired woman quickly and wordlessly moved
to the front of the boat. 

	The next day, Sandy couldn't get the strange
woman out of her thoughts.  This was a much more
exciting game than she was used to playing.  Would
she be back on the Ferry tonight, if so, how would
she be dressed...and why?  The hours seemed to go
so slow and as midnight approached they seemed to
go even slower.  Finally, the night was over and she
rushed out the door.  When her ride to the terminal
got stuck behind a bus, Sandy watched the minutes
click off on the dashboard clock and as twelve
twenty approached, she was sure she'd missed her
boat.
	Rushing up the escalator, Sandy reached the
top just in time to see the sliding access door close
to only a one foot opening.  She had missed it.
	Suddenly the door stopped and began to side
back open.  Pushing it was a different younger
deckhand.
	"Hurry up."  He yelled. "You can still make
it."
	As she dashed inside, Sandy paused just long
enough to smile at the deckhand and say thank you. 
Between the humidity and the rapid beating of her
heart, she was covered with sweat and out of breath
by the time she took her seat.  
	It took no effort to locate her mystery
woman, she had moved to a new seat only a few
rows in front of Sandy as if she wanted to be seen. 
It seemed as if she was now an equal player in the
game, but what was the game and what were the
rules?
	As on the previous two nights, the woman
now projected a totally new image. She wore a
bright blue business suit with a matching skirt. Her
buttons were firmly closed this time, her top button
covered by a small cloth tie.  Her hair was still black
but now long and tied tightly into a bun. If she had
to pick an occupation for the woman, Sandy's first
choice would be a librarian. 
	This time, Sandy didn't approach the woman.
In fact, she waited until the boat docked and the
"librarian" exited first.  All during the ride home on
the train, Sandy couldn't contain her excitement. 
This was exciting - who would she be tomorrow?


	Thursday passed in a blur. All Sandy could
think about was the Ferry trip home. Peter had
called and left messages for her on her voice mail
but she was in no rush to return his calls. Let him
wait a while and see how he likes it.  Finally as
eleven-thirty struck, Sandy did something she had
never done before - she left work early.  She just
couldn't take the chance she would miss the twelve
thirty Ferry. It had been a slow night and after
making sure that everything that had to be done was
done, she left the office in the hands of her assistant.
	Reaching the terminal about midnight, Sandy
carefully scanned the crowd gathered  in the large
waiting area.  There was no sign of her. The sliding
access door soon opened and the small crowd
surged inside.  Checking her watch, Sandy took a
position right at the door and waited until the last
possible moment to board. So absorbed was she in
looking for her quarry that she didn't even notice
that the door had begun to close.
	"Hey lady, are you coming or what?"  Called
out the deckhand, rousing Sandy from her trance.
	Without a word, she ran up the corridor and
onto the Ferry. Taking her usual seat, she stared out
the window into the night sky.  Watching the tiny
lights spread across the harbor, Sandy felt a little let
down. The game had been fun and a lot more
interesting than it usually was. She was sorry to see
it end.
	"Maybe I just missed her?"  She said to
herself. "Maybe she was dressed in such a way that I
didn't recognize?"
	That thought in mind, Sandy rose to her feet
and began to walk the length of the small Ferry.
After her second circuit and an inspection of every
passenger aboard, for all Sandy knew she could be
dressed like a man tonight, she finally had to admit
defeat.  The boat docked soon after and a slightly
dejected woman walked to the waiting train.   

	The next day, Friday, seemed to be the worst
day of the summer. The mercury never dropped
below 98 the entire day and the setting of the sun
beneath the horizon brought no real relief.  Nothing
had gone right that day for Sandy.  A short blackout
in her area had put an end to the air conditioner,
driving her totally up the wall.  Inside her small
apartment the temperature soared over a hundred.  
	Her attempts to contact Peter had hit a stone
wall.  As far as she knew, they were still on for
tomorrow,  but he was being a real prick about
returning her calls. She would show him she
thought, wait until I get him into bed.  Maybe I'll
bring him right to the brink and then suddenly get a
headache.  That'll show him not to play these games. 
That she was equally guilty never occurred to her.


	During the dinner break that night, Sandy
mentioned the strange woman on the Ferry to a few
of her friends. She left out the part about  her little
fantasy game of course, just mentioning how she had
seen this woman dressed up a different way each
evening.  Each of the people at her table had a
different idea of why the woman was dressing up
like that. Sandy listened with interest at each
suggestion.
	"A lot of people have both a day and night
job, maybe she just has a lot of different part time
jobs."  Suggested Kathy Davis.
	"I thought about that,"  Sandy replied as she
nibbled at her salad. "I could match up her being a
nurse and then some other kind of professional the
night she wore the suit, but somehow being a by the
hour security guard didn't really fit in."
	"I'll bet she's an actress."  Mary Jane Sullivan
suggested. "You know they sometimes really try to
get into a character when they're trying out for a
role.  Maybe she's just attending a lot of auditions."
	"That's a good idea, I hadn't really
considered that one."  Sandy said.  "But wouldn't
most auditions be held during the day?"
	Mary Jane thought about it for a second then
nodded in agreement. She hadn't thought of that.
	"There's another possibility that you ladies
have overlooked."  Said Timmy O'Brien, the only
man in their little quartet. "She could be a hooker."
	"A hooker?"  Sandy repeated in surprise.
	"Yeh, think about it."  Timmy continued. "A
lot of guys are into that role-playing scene.  Maybe
she gets a turn-on wearing her outfit of the night
home."
	"Speaking from experience are we?"  Kathy
quipped with a sly smile.
	"Or maybe she just doesn't have time to
change since she has to catch the 12:30 Ferry just
like Sandy does."  Mary Jane interjected.
	"I don't know."  Sandy mused. "Well no
matter the reason, she wasn't on last nights boat so I
guess she was lucky enough to get off the night
shift.   Something none of else will ever do if we
don' get back to work."
	With a serious of faked moans and groans,
her three dinner partners rose from the table and
returned to their jobs. The last to leave the table,
Sandy gave the mystery one last thought before
turning her mind back to the work at hand.
	The rest of the evening passed uneventfully
and it wasn't long before Sandy was saying her
goodnights.  As she stepped out of her friends air
conditioned car at the Whitehall Street entrance to
the Ferry Terminal, Sandy was engulfed by the wall
of heat and  humidity she stepped into.  
	"Please let it rain soon."  She said to herself
as she looked up into the lightly clouded sky.  "Or at
least let the air conditioning be back on when I get
home."  She substituted as she shuddered at the
thought of trying to fall asleep in this inferno. The
weekend was the only time that she was able to
sleep late, but in this heat, sleep would be next to
impossible.
	


	Friday nights there seemed to be less people
on the late Ferry. Most people must leave early to
get a jump on the weekend.  By the time Sandy
dropped into her regular seat, her blue blouse was
already wet with perspiration and sticking to her
skin. Every window on the boat was wide open but
even the breeze was warm. In vain she had looked
for an outside seat but quickly found them already
occupied.  	
	Producing that day's copy of the Advance
from her bag, Sandy began to read. Absorbed in her
reading, she didn't immediately notice that someone
had sat down directly opposite her.  This was
unusual enough as the interior cabin of the boat was
almost  ninety percent empty, most of the passengers
choosing to sit outside. As she turned the page she
became aware of the other person. When she
lowered the paper to take a look, it was all Sandy
could do not to drop the paper in surprise. 

	
	Sitting not four feet away, was Sandy's
mystery woman.  Sandy's mouth hung open as she
took in the image before her.  Gone were the
professional outfits, or even the blue collar security
guard's uniform. The only job description that her
current outfit could fit was that of a 42nd Street
Streetwalker.
	Her hair was now a bright and curly blonde,
a color so unnatural that Sandy was sure that it was
a wig.  Her lips were full and red,  and the small stud
earrings she had worn on previous occasions were
now replaced by wide gold hoops.  Her large 38
inch breasts were barely contained by the red bikini
top she wore.  In fact, the points of her nipples were
clearly visible through the thin material.  Her blue
pants were cut so short that if Sandy  was sure that
if she  looked closely, she would see a few loose 
pubic hairs sticking out of the edges. 
	The woman just seemed to smile at Sandy,
then ignored her completely.  Sandy tried to go back
to her paper, but was unable to stop stealing
glances.  With an eerie fascination, she watched as
droplets of sweat formed between the woman's
breasts and ran down her stomach and disappeared
beneath the material of her oh so short pants.  
	Sandy had never been attracted to other
women, but couldn't take her eyes away.  She could
feel a familiar wetness between her legs and was
lying to herself when she blamed it on the humidity.
The olive skinned woman just radiated sexuality, a
raw unbridled lust that hit Sandy full force.  The
tingling between her legs grew so strong that Sandy
wished she was already home so she could find some
relief. Instead she sat there with her paper, trying
hard not to show the arousal sweeping within her.
	The scantily clad woman just continued to
smile thought out, she knew the effect she was
having on Sandy. She was now in control of the
game and found immense pleasure in hitting all the
right buttons to drive Sandy to distraction.
	Finally she looked right into Sandy's bright
blue eyes and seemed to capture her soul. Her
tongue glided sensuously across her full red lips as
she brought a hand up and ran her long fingernails
down the crevice between her tanned mounds. 
Sandy was no longer making any attempt to disguise
her interest.  Wiping the sweat from her breasts, the
woman brought her index finger up to her mouth
and slowly licked it clean.
	"Any more of this and I'm going to cum right
here in my panties."  Sandy thought as she watched
the woman cup her other breast with her free hand. 
"I can't believe I'm getting this turned on by another
woman."
	Then, abruptly, the woman stopped her
caressing of her breasts and rose from her seat and
headed for the front of the boat.  It was only then
that Sandy realized that they had docked and most
of the people had already left.  Grabbing her bag
from the floor, Sandy began to quickly follow the
woman off the boat.  Her steps propelled by a
strange mixture of both fear and excitement.  


	Following the last of the crowd into the St.
George Terminal, Sandy could see people ahead of
her make the right turn that led to the train and the
various buses. To her surprise, the object of her
interest turned instead to the left and disappeared
into a closed off accessway.
	For a long minute, Sandy stood at the
junction as the last of the other passengers
disappeared from sight ahead of her. Finally
overwhelmed with curiosity, she carefully began to
follow the "streetwalker" down the corridor.  
	About thirty yards  down, the causeway
again branched off to the left and Sandy stopped
dead at the corner.  As she peeked around the wall's
edge, she had to bit down on her lip to keep from
making a sound. There, about  ten feet away, stood 
one of the deckhands from the Ferry she had just
exited.  His back was to her so she couldn't see his
face. What she could see all too clearly was the
mystery lady from the Ferry on her knees in front of
the man.  Her position and the motion of her head
couldn't be mistaken for any activity other the
obvious.
	From her vantage point, Sandy could tell that
the dark clad man was already near to climax. He
was either incredibly horny or she was one talented
cocksucker to bring him off so quickly.  Sure
enough, Sandy heard a loud gasp from the man as he
exploded into the woman's mouth.  Sandy watched
for a few more seconds as the tall hooker, she
couldn't think of her any other way right now, 
withdrew his cum covered cock from her mouth and
proceeded to lick him clean.  
	Suddenly aware that she could be caught,
Sandy began to quickly and quietly retrace her steps. 
She'd gotten halfway down the dimly lit corridor
when she heard the man turning the corner.  Quickly
she ducked into a small doorway covered in shadow. 
She held her breath as she watched him pass.  no
sooner did he turn the corner, Sandy heard the
hooker's footsteps coming from behind her.  Again
trying to blend into the darkness, Sandy waited until
she had been passed by. 
	The hooker stopped abruptly, just out of
Sandy's line of sight.  Sandy's heart was racing like a
triphammer as she heard the soft footsteps suddenly
stop.
	"I hope you enjoyed the show."  The hooker
suddenly said.  
	"Oh God, she knows I'm here!"  Sandy cried
out in her mind.
	"Come on out, I don't bite."  The Puerto
Rican woman said. "Unless of course you're into
that sort of thing."
	Stepping out of the shadows, Sandy blushed
bright red with embarrassment.  
	"I figured you'd follow."  The tall woman
continued.  "I could see how hot you were getting
back on the boat."
	Before Sandy could answer, the woman
stepped forward and slid her hand under Sandy's
skirt and into her panties.
	"I knew it,"  She exclaimed. "You're dripping
wet."  
	The sudden thrill as she felt this strange hand
caress her pussy caused Sandy to freeze in her
tracks.  Again the potent combination of fear and
excitement took hold of her body.  Before she could
respond to the surge of mixed emotions, the hooker
pressed her against the cool tile wall.  Opening her
mouth to protest, Sandy felt the softness of another
woman's lips pressed against her own for the first
time in her life.  This was immediately followed by
the wetness of a tongue as it invaded her mouth. 
The taste was tangy and familiar, and it took a
second for Sandy to comprehend  that what she was
tasting was the last traces of the deckhand's cum. 
	Drawing her attention away from the erotic
kiss was the sudden penetration of her wet mound
by one of the woman's long slender fingers.  With a
rapid motion, she slid first one, then a second, deep
into Sandy. Then she withdrew them as quickly as
they had entered, only to quickly replace them.
	The frantic friction against her clit sent
ripples though her body.  She barely noticed the soft
caress of the woman's tongue which had now moved
to her neck.  It wasn't until she felt a sudden tweak
of pain that she became aware  that the woman's
other hand had slid beneath her blouse and now
cupped one of her naked breasts.  All that she cared
about was the rising crest that was building between
her legs and the eruption it foretold.
	Then, barely a few minutes after she had
started, the mystery woman felt Sandy's body quiver,
then tremble as she slipped over the crest into a
powerful orgasm.  Pulling Sandy tight against her,
she kissed her once again, this time finding no
resistance to her tongue.  Her fingers buried
themselves deep within her as she squeezed hard on
her soft white breast.
	Sandy lost all sensation of time as she
dropped into a bottomless pool of delight.  All she
cared about at that moment was that she wished that
it would never end. That this incredible feeling had
been initiated by another woman was the furthest
concern in her mind. 
	But eventually it did end and Sandy's
attention returned back to her situation.  The woman
withdrew her fingers from within Sandy and from
under her blouse.  She stepped back and took a
good look at Sandy's now disorganized appearance. 
Her blouse was now hanging open, with one breast
exposed.  Bright red lipstick marks covered her
mouth and neck.  While her blue skirt now covered
the cum soaked panties, the strong fragrance of
girlcum told the tale.
	"I knew you'd get into this."  The hooker
said. "I saw you checking me out the other night
when I had that nurse outfit on. After I saw you
search the boat for me last night I knew that you'd
follow me tonight."
	"You were on the boat yesterday?"  Sandy
gasped as she tried to control her breathing.  "But I
looked everywhere."
	"No, you only check were passenger's are
supposed to go. I was nice and cool in the crew's
cabin. It's amazing what a little promise of a blow
job can get you."
	Sandy then realized that it was the delivery
of that promise that she had witnessed.  Even now
she found it exciting. More so was the idea that she
had cum at the hands of another woman.
	Sandy watched in erotic fascination as the
woman brought her cum covered fingers to her
mouth and licked them clean, just as she had licked
the deckhand's cock.  
	"Mmmm."  She purred. "I figured a fine lady
like yourself would have a good taste."
	Reaching into her small purse, the woman
withdrew a small card and slid it into the straps of
Sandy's exposed bra.  She leaned forward and kissed
her again, this time it was lightly and quick.
	"If you ever want to find out what it would
really be like, give me a call."  She said with a smile. 
"In fact, for a pretty white girl like you, I'd do it for
free."
	With that she turned and headed down the
corridor.  Sandy watched the sway of her tight ass
until she disappeared from view.  Taking the card
from her bra, she moved over to the light to read it.
	It read:  Creative Illusions - Bringing Fantasy
To Life.  24 hrs 7 days , 555-1034.  In the lower
right corner of the card was a name - Jasmine.  
	A sudden thunderclap brought Sandy back to
reality. It was finally going to rain. After spending a
few frantic minutes getting herself as presentable as
possible, Sandy raced down the hall to try and catch
the train.  This time she was too late.
	Standing on the empty platform, feeling the
wetness of the welcome rain as it splashed down
from the small overheads, Sandy decided she didn't
mind waiting for the next train just this once.
	She lifted the card so she could read it one
last time.  Her hand was over the trash when she
changed her mind about tossing it. It would make a
nice souvenir of her little adventure.  Not that she
could ever tell Peter or anyone else about it - they
just wouldn't understand.  




-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Priorities ....

	A hundred years from now....
	  	 It won't matter how much money I had....
			What kind of house I lived in ....
				Or what kind of car I drove...	

	What will matter is that the world might be a better place...
		Because I was important in the life of a child. 	

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