The nightclub's bouncer tapped the shoulder of a young girl who was not only failing to keep time with the music but looked to be in the throes of an enjoyable seizure.

"I'm afraid that I have to fine you on charges of DWA or ask you to leave."

She took off her turtleneck, making fanning motions to cool her now neon tank-topped torso, and grabbed his hand. "You have really nice hands," she said, stroking them with fingers accented by green fingernails. Rather at odds with her pink hair, he thought.

"DWA is no joke, Miss," the bouncer stuttered, pulling his hand back and not sure how to handle the situation.

"What's the fine?" she asked, pulling quarters from her knee socks.

"Twenty bucks."

"Can I pay in quarters?"

"How did you manage to get that many quarters in those socks?" She must have legs that inspired sparrows to buy ThighMasters, or else the cornucopia of coinage she extricated from her shin area would have given her the appearance of elephantiasis.

"What does DWA stand for?" As she spoke, he noticed her intonation; rolling hills regardless of context. It made him think of an enthusiastic robot randomly chucking stresses into speech because of a vague rumor that humans did it.

"Dancing While Autistic," he mumbled, hoping he could find a Coin Star and wondering how her laughter managed to be louder than the music.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

If you liked this, please help.

The fantasy e-zine Aoife's Kiss has just come out with my story "Attempts to be a Bohemian Mormon". It features my popular recurring character Derrick Jangoral.

To read it, go to: pro penname is "Donaya Haymond".

One piece from this month's issue, chosen by popular vote, will be included in next year's anthology. That equals. slightly more fame and possibly more money (I got 6, 1 above their minimum).

Please vote for me at: