I do not own these characters, and I make no profit from this story.
City on the Edge of Denver
Kirk rolls over, yet again. The sheets have become twisted around his legs. Yet again.
He sighs, and sits up. “Lights!” He blinks as they come on abruptly.
Might as well do something. Not much point in trying to sleep. He goes to the computer, rubbing his eyes.
“Computer,” he demands, “display latest files uploaded to Entertainment database.”
“Working,” the computer replies. A few seconds later, a list fills the screen.
Kirk scrolls down until he finds something interesting. He has developed a guilty passion for the trashier side of twentieth century literature lately; and this seems to be a dramatised version. He calls it up.
Music begins to play, and the screen is filled with a montage of faces and names. “Dynasty,” he reads. Then, “Joan Collins.”
There is something about that face. Something – bewitching.
He watches the entire show, smiling sadly.
