This choice: James, 25 year old, just got out of college • Go Back...Chapter #3James, 25 year old, just got out of college by: Mr. George   You initially dismiss the e-mail, just another piece of Spam. It's just a new address, and you haven't mentioned it, or used it with anyone, so you put off deleting it.
Somehow, it plays on your mind, as you send off résumés in a bid to reduce your student debts. When you take a break for a coffee, you find yourself thinking about who might have sent it, or why it was sent. Your anti-virus kicked up no warnings, and it's not asking for money, or telling you how to earn $$$$$, for only five minutes work a month.
Your thoughts eventually run towards more sexual directions as you throw the last of the coffee back. The afternoon passes with more e-mails to prospective employers. Finally you work it out, it HAD to have come from your friends.
Charles, call me Charlie. Bill, just Bill, and Jack, real name Jackson. Perhaps they are planning on taking the piss with whatever you type in. A fairer world... a sexual preference... or whatever....
Three o'clock rolls around, and you find yourself unable to concentrate on the Job hunting. So you go to the web address, and enter the Login, and Password.
You feel a little disappointed. There's no fireworks, no laughing faces. It's a very dull screen with a slowly pulsing cursor in an empty text box.
Hoping to provoke a reaction, you type quickly and accurately.
My University friends, Charlie, Bill and Jack, are always surrounded by beautiful, willing, voluptuous women.
Nothing happens, when you hit enter, and you let out a disappointed sigh. A small box darkens into existence, 'Confirm'.
With a simple -click- you send away your little reality shift.
"Your request has been accepted and will be processed at the next sleep shift."
If it's a joke, it's not funny. It's not even amusing, you close the tab and go back to work.
The rest of the afternoon provides only a few automated replies, thanking you for your interest, and we'll keep your details on file.
But finally, you head out for well-earned beer. | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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