A/N: This is an ongoing writing exersise where I start each story segment with the last word of the previous segment. Last Updated: 11/15
May 24th, 2059. Ground breaks on America's latest high-speed rail project, connecting Denver to Kansas City. Fireworks shoot off in Taipei, celebrating the 40th anniversary of Taiwan’s legalization of same-sex marriage. In a hidden lab isolated in west North Dakota, a small electrical signal is sent. It's a message, running from the nerves, up the brainstem, and setting off a cascade of pulses to the neurons, all to tell the brain "My ankle hurts”. What the brain doesn't know is that this should be
Impossible. It's almost guaranteed that she could die in vitro. There's only a 5% chance that the egg would implant into the uterine lining, and even then there's the possibility of defects. All the tests and modifications and consults and tests and Amy and Jessica still want to have their daughter. It's all a risk that they'd be willing to
Take whatever expectations you have of a good game and shove it up your ass, because we have officially reached a new low. You would think that with the whole petabyte of storage space this damn thing takes up it would have something good about it but no. As soon as the tutorial loaded in I knew I was completely and unequivocally fucked. "Okay" said the game, "We're going to have you parkour through this beautiful sandbox with the worst controlls you could ever imagine and laugh at you when you fuck it up." And the poor controls were only the
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