brown eyes. As though looking at something completely out of his league.
He looked like the kind who would invent a dorky email name and send
her a secret declaration.
It wasn't Jack Kushner. That would be too good to be true.
A box popped up: "You have an Instant Message. Do you want
to receive it now?"
clicked on the Yes box.
"TJX037X2: r u there?" appeared in the white oblong.
Carmen stared. The two texts sat on the screen: "i luv u" in
the geeky email message box and, in the smaller, pert, off-center
IM box, "r u there?"
She stared in irritation at the new message~how that illiterate
nonspelling annoyed her!
In the little oblong box designed for her reply (a cute little
thing~oddly protective, she decided), Carmen typed: "Yes. I am here."
Then, thinking she might as well humor
it, she changed it to "yes i m here."
she felt a void plunging, down, down, at her feet.
stared at the message. She moved the cursor back and forth over the
Send button that would move the text into the box where both she and
her mystery seducer could see it.
u there?" and "yes i m here" and "i luv u" stared at Carmen, black
on white, with, between them, bars of gray and pale blue that kept
them apart, each in its own box, in limbo, in cyberspace, waiting
for something to happen. She could do it~she could make something
happen~or she could just sit there, or she could go offline; could
Carmen sat, clinging to her chair as to a cliff over empty
She closed her eyes as she moved the cursor back and forth
over the Send button, back and forth ... Then she