Tracing (enjoying) with her tongue the silhouette of the four new teeth she'd acquired since her last incarnation. Ah, lovely, so slick. Why all the fuss? Once upon a time, no one even bothered to remark on such things, but lately (meaning since the Great Flood) fresh teeth or a spare eyeball, a supernumerary digit or whatever, raised the news to heights of sensationalism. Sighing, she prepared for her audience with the journalists and the well-wishers and just plain random-folk who insisted on lionizing her achievement. Gawkers, mostly. Moderately flattering, she thought, stepping into half-light, but honestly no big deal. Not compared to the effort of being born originally, the first out-thrust and outcry, the sheer ridiculous temerity of emergence. Now, that was newsworthy. Of course, back then, way back in those before-we-called-them-days, almost no one was there to witness. Hmmm, a scholar's dissertation surely lurks in that contemplation. She shook her head. She put her hands to her lips, to her cheeks. More teeth could only be a plus, right? Last time in the other place, the meats were especially good, tantalizing of soul as well as body. Oh, hello, yum! She could smell something grilling, maybe a city-block from the press agent's office. Promising. Yes, yes, I know it is almost time “to meet the press.” Electronics this time, quicker than the telegraphics of her last time. No wings, that was it – she knew she missed something. Well, good, a fair trade, more teeth in return for wings stripped off. The latter were such a nuisance to hide, only good when she had to hunt. What is that aroma, the burnt offerings from a city-block away? (“Barbeque,” her handler informed her in the orientation session, what a marvelous word – she was most definitely all-in for snout-to-tail dining). Okay, here I come, hold on, my skin is still a bit tender from the rebirthing, sort of tingly all over – love this invention: hand lotion! Sighing again, she endured the reporters and autograph seekers, all while running her tongue over the new teeth, a private indulgence she wished she could hide from the assembled eyes. So slick, so … unused.
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