Nothing much, I supposed itwas just water. I shook my head a little at feeling my arm though. Thehair had drained with the water. I looked around, none to be seen. Ichecked everything, my legs, my back, my chest, all of it had beencarried with the water. I tugged at the hair on my head. Still there,still set right; cropped by my ears.We learn as cadets that information the enemy might divulge when theythink we are not listening can be vital. It is neither an overstatementnor an understatement. It hits right at the heart of the matter. "Sowhat is the room for? Why the white walls?" I heard as I pressed my earon the metal that held the glass to the wall, searching for thevibrations in the hard metal at the end of the cloth. The intercombeing much more enjoyable to listen to."Ahh you wish to know then. Well you see the room emits two differentforms of change inducing waves. It first sends a high frequency intothe brain. This frequency is especially designed to attack the brain'sability. She was wearing a pair of low-riding jeans with a studded belt that allowed the crack of her ass to peak out over the top. The little black top she was wearing would have been more suited to a nightclub than a foosball game but I wasn’t complaining. ‘You’d better put those in the fridge.’ Jen said with a wave of her hand. ‘We wouldn’t want any warm beer would we?’ ‘We?’ I asked. ‘Who said you’re getting any bitch?’ Jen opened her mouth in mock surprise. We joked around like that all the time so it wasn’t unusual for us to trade insults. ‘You’re the one that will be the bitch tonight,’ she countered. ‘My bitch!’ ‘Dream on. Let’s play.’ I took out a couple beers and put the rest in the fridge before making my way over to the table. Jen was waiting, tapping her fingers impatiently and glaring at me with her dark, almond shaped eyes. I tossed her a beer and raised my own. With a final ‘Good luck’ we started to play. Jen and I were starting to make our foosball games a weekly tradition,.
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