Farmerbabe's response to fanfic challenge #2:
Lois's thoughts were in a jumble; her fragmented memories melded together in an incoherent, panicked nightmare of her career, as can only happen when deeply asleep. She knew she was dreaming. Well, she thought she was dreaming, but it all seemed so real: one moment she was at Gold's gym watching Allie train his prize fighters, "Don't slow down!", "Pick up the pace!", "Don't let him break your stride!" ran over and over in her mind in Allie's voice; then she was running up the baggage cart at the airport chanting to herself, "Get the creep!", "Don't slow down!", "Don't let anything break your stride!"; then she was filing her latest story with Perry, a sure-fire nomination for her fourth Kerth Award - a slam dunk, taken in stride, all at top speed, Mad-Dog style. She was on cloud nine, she couldn't even feel the ground under her feet - but of course she couldn't feel the ground - she was in Superman's arms flying high over Metropolis and she was whispering in his ear:
"Ain't nothin' goin' to break my stride,
"Nobody's gonna slow me down, oh-no,
"I got to keep on movin',
"Ain't nothin' goin' to break my stride,
"I'm running and I won't touch ground,
"Oh-no, I got to keep on movin'."
That was wierd.
Lois groped for the alarm clock to free herself from the song-induced, twisted nightmare. But all day long she hummed the song planted in her brain by her alarm clock that morning: Break My Stride by Matthew Wilder.
