Logging off was always a strange experience for me, I could never put my finger on the adjectives that needed to be use for it. The feeling of floating, then falling, then suddenly waking up in my own skin again, fingers moving faster, eyes darting around actually hurt as minor claustrophobia kicked in inside the stiff and clammy pod.
I sat up, blinking against the real neon-like light of the game room where I and Hailie spent time together.
"Good evening, young madams."
Across the room, I could already hear Gerald's calm voice. He calmly approached our pods, making zero footsteps as he walked and helped Hailie out of her pod by gently pulling/lifting her from below the arms, speaking to her as though she were porcelain; delicate, and fragile.
He adjusted her hair back into place, fetched her chair, and guided her movements with a sort of elegance that only someone born into service could manage.
