story in rtf format
Carmen flinched as if touched by a hot brand,
then stared hard at the screen. What had the subject been?
She was such a fool! Was that why she'd clicked
on it, because she still needed to believe in that?
Just this week she'd made associate attorney:
she believed in smarts, sweat, energy, intimidation~and luck. What
did hope have to do with it?
The message had a typically opaque sender:
Spam. Scam. Or internet stalker. And an IM
illiterate to boot! Just what I need tonight.
Someone who had sent, expressly to Carmen Vilar, to taunt her, wound
her, those short, mocking, meaningless words.
stuck her tongue out at the screen.
Where had she left her email address? MySpace,
YouTube, PayPal, RedFish, craigslist, BizRate, eBay, her blog, her
firm, her acupuncturist ... where had she not left it?
hit the Reply button, and an empty email box appeared.
are you? How do you know me? How did you find me?" she typed quickly,
with brief pauses after each question, to think again about those
three little words, now hidden under the box on her screen. She almost
typed, "Where are you?"
be just a little too close for comfort, this guy: better not know
too much too soon.