Alternate ending to the plot of MK

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Loneliness is a horrible thing- for people who cannot use it to their advantage.

“Are you writing your little diary entries at a time like this, Meg? We’re at war you know.”

I’m one of those dreamers who feeds off that sorrow and weaves it into a tapestry no one has seen before. That’s why I put up with the loneliness. It’s both necessary and sufficient for this creative process. Ryan would have been proud.
“Don’t pretend like you can’t hear me, Meg. You’d should get some sleep. It’s late.”

MK pulled my earbuds out. I told him not to do this many times before, it frightens me so much. I’m a very jumpy person, I’m beginning to read his insistence on this behavior as delinquency.

“What do you want?” I asked quietly.

“I want you to do to bed so that when we get up at 400 hours you’ll have your wits about you to man the digi-center.” I sighed. He was right. I should go to bed.

“Horatio can handle that. He built the digi-center for Christ’s sake.” I stood up to leave.

“Meg, meg…”

“Don’t ‘Meg’ me. I’m an independent woman of indepdenent means. I’ll do what I want when I want.” I stood my ground. I now believed I was going to bed because I thought it was right. Wouldn’t want to be tired tomorrow, hell, we’re at war, you know.

MK just shook his head. “You don’t know the first thing about independence, and if you did, you’d never find yourself here. On a ship, being independent is the same as being dead meat. You and Horatio have to work together to run the digi-centers on both sides of this ship when we’re under attack. Clear communication is crucial. Everyone’s lives will be at stake. Are you willing to risk that? Will you risk the life of my son? And for what? A diary entry.”

I bit my lip in disdain. I really was the horrible creature he made me out to be. How selfish of me, not to notice I was potentially putting the lives of some of the few remaining human beings in this world in danger. It was so reckless of me I could barely forgive myself now. I was swinging from a jungle vine in my own mind, emotions racing, I felt I could almost fall over.

The next thing I remember I was awake in MK’s arms in bed. When I sat up a bit he looked at me and winked. “No worries. No war yet. Turns out they re-scheduled to next Friday.”

“No worries. No war yet. Turns out they re-scheduled to next Friday.” How I delighted at the words. I rushed downstairs to finish my work- the last threads must come together, in the conclusion of a tale that may live to see the next generation; the epic voyages, battles, and mysteries of that tall dark, handsome figure, the illustrious and daring Michael Knight.

Fin. 

(for clarification, Meg as referenced in this story does not refer to me in the flesh. It refers to a person who resembles and retains my name, but is hardly at all like me)

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