The process was fiddly at first. Ghost-fingers, for some reason, weren’t as flexible or as dexterous as her human ones had been. But after a few seconds the cap was off and she was ready. The mirror was the perfect palate.
She hadn’t even thought about what she’d write, but the words just came to her.
CLARK KENT, YOU ARE SO DEAD.
Wendy, you are nuts.
Do you even imagine what he was thinking, sitting there and suddenly getting horrible messages appear on his mirror out of nowhere?
I know I'd have died right there, superpowers or no.
Anyway, great part [in it's evilness], and glad L&C are communicating. Sort of. <g>
Fantastic job!
Julie
