Vita was sleeping in his bed, when he came home. He contemplated joining her, then decided to sleep on the sofa. He didn’t know if the last time they did their thing had been a spur of the moment kind-of-situation, or if she really liked him. Better safe than sorry, he thought, shutting the bedroom door behind him and stepping into his sitting room.
As he undressed clumsily—he couldn’t remember how many beers he had drunk—he suddenly noticed Vita’s tablet on the sofa.
He sat down on the couch and picked it up. Hesitatingly, he turned it on. It was locked, of course, with a four letters or numbers code. Absentmindedly, he typed “Lyra,” then “Vita” but nothing happened. As a last try, he typed “PlaX” and it worked.
He stopped breathing a few seconds and listened. Nothing moved in his bedroom, so he examined the tablet. There were the usual game and photo apps. He looked at her picture gallery. Nothing but a few selfies in various places. Five, to be exact. One was in his apartment. There also was a documents file—but it was password protected and neither “Vita,” “Lyra” nor “PlaX” worked.
He gave up, not wanting to push his luck. The last thing he checked was her browser, but she had erased all its history. Her tablet was as blank and mysterious as she was. After all, there was a balance in the universe.