Alice After Hours by Galia Ryan Page B

over the keyboard. “Give me reality over fantasy any day.”
    She waited. Would he or she respond?
    â€œ Reality is perception,” came the reply, “and perception merely an interpretation of a given environment. Not a universal truth.”
    Alice took a deep breath and wrote: “Reality is hard data and proven fact.”
    The reply: “And what of faith? Hope? A belief in your fellow man? Or is there no place for such ideals in your life?”
    Her keys tapped furiously. “None of the above could possibly form an objective basis for a relationship.”
    The reply: “Then what should?”
    Alice took only a moment. “Understanding motivation and agreeing on expectations.”
    The reply: “And is that how you live your life?”
    If only he knew, she thought.
    â€œ Far better than leaving it to chance,” she wrote.
    â€œ Making calculated decisions rather than step into the unknown and take a risk?”
    â€œ Risks are for gamblers,” she wrote back.
    â€œ And you’d rather control your destiny?”
    â€œ As much as I can.”
    â€œ And if life throws you a curveball?”
    Alice was beginning to get annoyed, not only with the replies of her online correspondent, but also with the fact that their conversation was being played out on a very public forum.
    He or she must have felt the same, for a message box popped up suggesting they move to a private area.
    Alice thought it a good idea. But before doing so she checked out the poster’s profile: male, aged between 35 and 45, location London, UK. She wondered if he had looked at hers: female, aged between 25 and 35, location blank.
    His message was waiting.
    â€œ Hi. Thought I might have frightened you off.”
    â€œ Why would you think that?”
    â€œ Tell me, do you really have a problem in trying anything new?”
    â€œ Not at all.”
    â€œ But not before you have assessed and factored for all possibilities.”
    â€œ I see nothing wrong in that. Why are you so interested?”
    â€œ Simple curiosity.”
    â€œ Don’t be.”
    â€œ Interesting. Not only emotionally reserved, but resistant too.”
    â€œ You value me too highly.”
    â€œ And with a sense of humour.”
    â€œ I’m shutting this down.”
    â€œ Then I’ve annoyed you, and for that I apologise. Let’s talk again tomorrow. Same time and place.”
    Alice didn’t bother replying, just logged out.

Chapter 2
    â€œ H ello again.”
    The message box popped up the moment she logged on, the suddenness causing her breath to catch. It was as if Archangel were in the room with her, had seen her sit down. But of course, that was impossible.
    She read the two words again. Hesitated. They were innocuous enough, weren’t they? But even as she was questioning why she would even want to re-open the conversation, her fingers had taken on a momentum all their own.
    â€œ Hi,” they replied.
    â€œ It seemed I touched a nerve last night,” he wrote.
    â€œ Hardly that.”
    â€œ Then why close down so quickly?”
    â€œ Better things to do.”
    â€œ And tonight?”
    She hesitated. What could she say? That she had found the whole thing—his needling her, her goading him, not to mention the very weirdness of the topic—strangely arousing?
    â€œ No reply?”
    She held back.
    â€œ So, why don’t we start again,” he typed. “How was your day?”
    Her fingertips hit the keyboard at last. “Good,” she replied, and then added, “and yours?”
    After all, communication was a two-way street.
    â€œ Suddenly looking up.”
    â€œ You flatter me.”
    â€œ Why do you put up barriers?”
    â€œ Not my intention.”
    â€œ Then it’s either second nature or a learned response.”
    â€œ What’s this?” she wrote. “Amateur psychobabble night?”
    â€œ Why else are you