Khar tha bhabi k samnay mujhy nanaga dykh kar bhabi ny gali di k bayghairta tery bhai ko aany dy to main subh bataon gi jo to nay kia hy main to dar gya khair main kapry phen kar bhabi k pas aya or unhain sory karny laga k ghalti ho gyi hy phir kabi aisa nai karon ga to woh khety hay k nai nai main bataon gi main bhot tens ho gaya phir aik dum mery khyal aya k keun na bhaibi ko chod don to yeh soch kar main utha or bhabi k samny khara ho gya hath jor kat or himmat akhthi kar k main nain un k kandhy sy pakar kar bed py zabardasti lita dia to woh dabi dabi awaz main mujhy bura bhala kheny lagi main nain us ki aik na sunni or us k lips gaal or gardan par kiss karny laga woh mery nechy sy nikalny ki koshah karny lagi main nain bhi ful zor lagaya hua tha k agar ab chor di to phir saray khandan main byizziti ho gi. Aik hath sy us ko pakara hua thato dosry hath sy us ka nara (azarband) kholny laga to us ny kas k pakar lia main nay shalwar k uper sy choot ko sehlany laga phir us ko bhi sex. That's what it felt like: She was sending him these huge chunks of data, in the hope that some of it had meaning to him. There weren't words. Only images, sounds. Emotions. Alan wondered if the Lady even knew what words were. Why would she? It was such a restrictive way to communicate, everyone having a different language. God blinks her eye, and suddenly nobody she wants to talk to understands Babylonian.Not that the Lady seemed to be that old. Youngness. That's the impression he got. She was young. A God for a new age. A new people.He looked around the room. None of his classmates had the right look. The right ... shimmer. Some of them could be followers. Yes. Maybe all. But not disciples. He needed those first. Girls to be his seconds, his connection to the faithful, much as he was the bridge to the Glory. So the Lady had said, or, at least, so he had understood.Alan smiled. This still made little sense."Umm..."Alan turned away from the bulletin board near the Office he had been.
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