Pheromone, More Likely by Nan Smith
A single light was burning in Clark Kent's apartment. In
the muted glow, in the middle of the living room, Lois Lane
was standing gazing at the object she'd just discovered,
her jaw slowly dropping.
After a long moment she sat down abruptly on the couch and
swallowed hard. "I just can't believe it!" she muttered.
Her voice rose steadily as her soliloquy continued. "How
*could* he? He always seemed so caring - so trustworthy!
Yet he's been keeping *this* hidden all along?" By this
time she had risen to her feet again, a militant light in
her eyes. "Boy, when I get hold of him, is he *ever* gonna
regret this...!"
Jose
