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Entry 8

  Entry Eight

  Crown Me

  “But what are they? VR? AR? Are there haptic gloves, too?” Thomas asked. Florian reached for the headset as Thomas, impulsive as always, slipped it on his head.

  Florian sucked in a breath and, I kid you not, reached up with both hands and tugged on his earlobes. He leaned in over Thomas and stared at him. “Do you, uh, do you see anything?”

  I glanced at the monitor, but the image hadn’t changed. I wasn’t sure if it was Windows wallpaper or some loading screen or something. Thomas reached forward and fumbled around, clearly unable to see what he was doing. His hand found the computer’s mouse, and he jiggled it. Nothing happened. He found and tapped the space bar on the keyboard.

  “Oh my God!” Thomas exclaimed.

  “What is it? What do you see?” Florian asked, releasing his ear lobes and leaning even further over Thomas.

  “It’s full of stars,” Thomas whispered, pretending to look side-to-side.

  I yanked the headset off him. Oh, how I wanted to smack him upside his head. I so, so wanted to smack him, but as always, I didn’t dare. At times, I thought Thomas wore his brittle bone disease like an invulnerability spell, running his mouth with impunity, pissing off anyone he cared to piss off. Not for the first time, I wondered if one day he would mouth off to the wrong person, someone who didn’t know about his condition, and find himself in real danger.

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  “Do you have anything in your store that, you know, works?” Thomas asked, adding insult to insult.

  I cringed, but Florian let out a breath as if relieved. “They don’t work for everyone,” he said, and I could have sworn I heard a trailing, “fortunately.” He was looking down at the headset in his hands, turning it over, probably trying to make sure Thomas hadn’t damaged it.

  I was about to apologize for my brother’s continued salt when Thomas spun his chair around, nearly running over my foot. Again. Without another word, he rolled back toward the front of the store. Florian and I watched him go. “I’m sorry about him. Abrasive is his default setting.”

  Florian waved a hand as if to swat my words from the air. “Posh.” He moved the folding chair back to its place in front of the computer. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

  I hesitated. Knowing Thomas, he’d roll right out of the store, not even waiting for me.

  “Don’t worry,” Florian said. “He’s coming back this way. Curiosity and cats, as they say.”

  He was. I turned and watched him pretend to peruse one of the aisles again. I glanced at Florian. His big, beardy grin had returned. Behind him, on the computer monitor, the man standing atop the elven mech thing was holding the pennant high above his head, and I decided that I had to see what this game was all about. Or try to, at least. I sat down in front of the computer, and Florian, standing behind me, placed the silver headset on me like it was a crown.

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