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©2012 Raminar Dixon

This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All characters represented within are eighteen years of age or older and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This work is property of Raminar Dixon, please do not reproduce illegally.

“Happy birthday!” Tracy cheerfully sang out, and handed Dana a white envelope sealed with a little gold sticker. “I think this will fit you perfectly!”

“Oh, thank you, Tracy!” Dana gushed, and hugged her best friend. “You know you didn’t have to do this, silly!”

She tore open the envelope and pulled out what she thought at first was a simple postcard. Upon closer inspection, she discovered it was a coupon for a trip to the newly-erected day spa downtown.

“I know it isn’t much, but I thought you deserved a relaxing day at the new spa for your big three-oh,” Tracy said, and patted her on the back.

She did deserve it. This had been one hell of a year. Things with the divorce had finally settled down and her ex had moved out of the country just last month, seeking his fortune as a software engineer for a multi-national megacorp. Her employer had eventually come around and seen what an asset she was to the company, and now she was heading up the accounting office. Bringing in an extra ten thousand a year made a big difference, and the responsibility of the job had her feeling less like a kid and more like a proper adult.

Turning thirty had always been this weird, scary thought in the back of her mind, but Dana was ready to accept it with open arms. Back when she was a teenager, she thought thirty was like some dreadful marker in a person’s life where they suddenly became ‘old’. As time moved on and the day drew closer, she had realized that thirty wasn’t really that old at all.

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