<div class="floatright">(http://img137.imageshack.us/img137/5489/tracysaffron.jpg)</div><br/>For what seemed the millionth time, Karen shut down the word programming program.  It automatically saved the crap she'd wasted a few hours writing, something which every once in a while became usual, but all too often just festered in the hard drive as a reminder of her failure.<br/><br/>Late at night always seemed to help her remember her childhood fantasy.  Maybe it was because she never easily fell asleep back then, or maybe it was that hyperactive imagination which modern-day life had little trouble in hardening into lifeless stone.  Nothing around the cramped apartment offered anything in the way of hints or suggestions, other than a bed which teased her with the promises of dreams which she could never remember upon awakening.<br/><br/>Maybe she just needed a change of scenery.  Putting on a white sweater, jeans and sneakers in preparation for the cool night air, she walked out to the street.  She couldn't remember exactly where at the moment, but close enough was a convenience store where she could nab some cola and maybe a low-fat snack.