OCR Text |
Show Coffee Drinkers Preferred Page 150 of 307 My eyes grew wide as I tried to picture him without his wrinkled ears and I said as fast as I could, "Well I know you!" "Who am I?" He smiled. "You're a Ferengi." "Yeah, but only because I'm short now. When I grow up I'm going to be a Klingon." Nefarious Nephi knew he had been made. Spotted. Identified. Caught. Captured. Killed. Calmate. Es simplimente un niho. Somewhere in this little boy's mind was the memory of me lurking around the mailboxes. It was in there floating around like a tiny piece of tinsel in a snow-globe and I needed it to dissolve. He needed not to see me as the postman but as a Star Trek geek. "I want to be a Vulcan when I grow up." I said. He laughed, "You are grown up. You're almost as old as my mom. But Vulcans are boring. Klingons can beat up Vulcans." "Have you ever heard of the Vulcan Nerve pinch?" "Doesn't work on Klingons! Doesn't work on Klingons!" He started singing and gyrating "Doesn't work on Klingons. Doesn't work on Klingons." "Rhythm. What are you doing?" Sariah looked at me with just a bit of embarrassment on her face. "Is he bothering you? I'm sorry." |