When we arrived at her house, she propped her bike against the porch rail and bounded inside.“Should I come in?” I called.“No, I’ll be out in ... minute!”I kept warm by riding up and down the road. Soon I heard Heather’s front door open and close again and she biked out of the dusk toward me. The moon was thinking about setting, still giving us enough light to easily navigate the roads. I realized the ride back home later would be much more challenging.“So what did you get?” I asked, unable to. I went up to the mirror, pressing my hands against the glass, peeringinto my own eyes.Was it also true that I was losing my intelligence?"I don't fuckin' believe it," I said.Then I paused. There was something else strange here that was difficultto put my finger on. "What the fuck's goin' on?" I muttered. Then Irealised. My voice. My accent and turn of phrase was totally different.It was common and crass. I was talking as though I had no education atall."Bloody 'ell."This was terrible. I said a. More

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