Real Conversation, Virtual World

“It’s been a year.”

“I can’t believe it. A year went by that fast?”

“A year, Fatima! An entire candle!”

“We should celebrate.”

“I want my present.”

“Oh really?”

“I’m not kidding. I think I deserve a present. An ‘annual bonus.’”

“What do you want?”

“More you.”

“I was with you yesterday, in the writers’ group!”

“I want something else. Actually, I already have it, I just need you to agree.”

“What are you saying?”

“I signed you up for a morning poetry reading.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“A year, Fatima. A whole year, and you don’t trust me?”

“Are you crazy? What have you done?”

“I’ve taken care of everything. All you have to do is come. Your name won’t appear in the announcement or on the posters or in the newspaper. There will be no press, no cameras. Nothing to be scared of. All you have to do is come, like every other time, at the same time. You’ll sit to my right and read your poetry. Ten minutes, Fatima, just ten minutes!”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s no different from the writers’ group. You’ve been a member for three months and nothing bad has happened. Trust me.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes. My annual bonus.”

“And if something happens?”

“I won’t let anything happen. I’m not going to let you go so easily.”