Implied

Out of everything on the tag, four words - four very specific words - stood out at her. Had she not seen them she would have gone on with her early morning dive as normal, but their presence caught her attention, distracting her and, in a way, almost challenging her with how brazen they were.

Mario was a simple balloon salesman of humble means. Each day, Mario would push his cart up and down the street, and sell balloons to whoever wanted them. The Italian immigrant didn’t discriminate.

Roxanne was a high-powered advertising executive. She walked past Mario’s cart each day on her brisk walk to work. Every morning she barked orders into her cell phone, coffee in hand.

...

Is this thing on?

Is... It is?

We're recording, right?

Okay.

Hi, I'm Lola. I'm 17, and I'm going to tell you, whoever you are, about that time I became a human experiment.

I was walking down the street with my best friend Chelsey. We stumbled across a man in fully beige clothing. A hat, a trench coat, corduroys, boots. reading a book. Besides wondering why he was wearing such clothing, I dismissed it and we kept walking.

Steve’s Dream (nightmare)

Fast, explicit, and strangely provocative; Steve awoke from his dream with a racing heart and sticky moist skin. It felt like the beings were actually touching him, erotically poking and probing the various orifices of his body. But as intense as it was, he recovered quickly, realizing he was in the assurance of his own apartment. Jumping into a nice warm shower, Steve thought to himself that it was going to long day.