Short Story / FaceSpace Miss Tell
I am greeted with bright red text screaming “New Messages!” as I log in. It appears there are four from my amphibious and perfectly porous girlfriend, Tchegunda, and I open them eagerly.
Message 1 (7/22, 9:20 am): You were magnificent last night. Who knew you could do that with a waffle iron?
My tentacles writhe. I struggle to get myself under control.
Message 2 (7/22, 5:16 pm): Lover, I’m not going to make it tonight. Sorry!
Message 3 (7/22, 8:12 pm): Leaving now! Keep those horns sharp for me!
Confusion.
Message 4 (7/22, 8:14 pm): Oh, God, wrong contact. Sorry!
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Reading this even after I’ve heard it once still brings laughter to my lips. Well done, love!
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