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| The Passion of the Daleks |
I stared at her, my angel, standing there unmoving, statuesque, but weeping inside. Then I shut my eyes and was immediately transported to another time long ago.
He wasn't really her type. His head was a shiny dome and his skin had weird bumps all over. He was opinionated, one eyed really, and was obviously a bit of a sucker with a strong destructive streak. But he had his own wheels.
Her smooth skin glistened in the sunlight.
"I feel nothing" she intoned, despite the sparks flying between them.
"You... you delete ME", he replied.
He was letting it all hang out. Typical of a guy, always thinking with it, she smirked. She wondered if he'd be such a slave to it if she snipped it off.
There he stood, tall and dressed in a smart suit. The silent type, the kind of person you'd forget about the moment you turned away. But his touch was electric.
