Rick lets Officer Wolfhart led her to a special worker from the city. The woman that Robyn took Rick too, was part of a new department. The department was setup to help people who have been exposed to the Blue Lace Drug and its derivative a new street drug called Venus.

Sasha watches as her daughter walks away with Rick. She now needed to find out who the magician was that changed Rick Jones and what that cabinet was. She waves goodbye to the people she knew and leave SWAT headquarters.

Sam has hid from the world for most of his life -- Sometimes dreams come true. Somethings they feel like a nightmare.

***
Author's notes: I created the idea for this technology a while ago. This story idea came to me this morning. I just kept the idea flowing and maybe later I will come up with other short story ideas like this.
***

My name is Devin. I've been touted as a painting prodigy. The turning point in my career, a moment that would shape my future, came when I had my first gallery show at the tender age of sixteen. Since then, my work has been in high demand, keeping me busy and allowing me to live a comfortable life.

Accustomed
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

2002

James McAdam had been dating the girl for a while when she told him about the job opportunity that had amounted to nothing.

“It is a private nurse job for this super rich guy, but despite my qualifications and experience he rejected me when I met him earlier today,” she said. “It would be a great job, because is very rich, very old and very sick, and said to be very generous. But he is looking for somebody special, and it is not me. Perhaps you should apply. You don’t have a real job.”

The office building apparently was from around the beginning of the century. All chrome and insulating glass, well-maintained. A metal plate at the entrance listed the companies inside. According to it, Montafun Statistics occupied the twelfth floor.

The floor turned out to have a single wide corridor with half a dozen of doors at each side. At its end, a big Venetian window offered a nice view of the east of Milan. Its beginning was arranged as a little lobby, presided over by a massive wooden desk with a stocky, gray-haired woman behind it.

“Hello, my name is Damiano Rossi. I’m coming for the job interview, at 10 o’clock.”