Not all brain tumors are alike. Some are self-aware alien entities you bring back unwittingly from your research dive in the Falkland Islands. They begin as tiny organisms which slime their way through your ear canal and settle into your brain like fat royals at a luxurious five-star resort. They gorge on electricity, blood protein and brain fat, growing rapidly in the fractal folds of your cerebrum like those wacky toys from China that expand in water, only more insidious, as these tumors are self-aware and what you are experiencing is in fact an alien takeover.
Of course, you won't know this at first.
Evil Linda had dark hair that flooded the alley like a black curtain in a storm. From the window I saw her eyes flash under the sulfur lights like animal eyes. Evil Linda was my double. She was me, minus the spare tire and extra chin, plus the ivory fangs and phantom green aura which off-gassed like Goosebumps radiation from the top of her boots and out her jacket sleeves.
We all have Doubles, and Triples, and Quadruples, Evil Lin told me, living in pocket universes that collide during certain space-time fluctuations. And strand unfortunate passengers such as herself. So she stood outside KoKo's Diner, waiting for a mark. She would get one. Seduction was easy for E. Lin, as simple as jaywalking, or setting an alarm clock.