She had been sitting in front of the computer for half an hour. The glow of the screen would keep her awake for hours. She hadn’t written a word. Her fingers sat on the home row keys. Mrs. Smith, her high school keyboard teacher would have been proud of her. Except she wasn’t typing. She was sitting there staring at the blank place on the screen where her words should be.
“The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.” she began to type. It wasn’t what she wanted to say but at least there were words on the page now. She reached up and touched the screen. It gave way beneath her touch like the surface of a pond. Her fingers dipped beneath the surface. They felt dry. She could not see a hole where she had touched the screen.
She stuck her head through the screen. There was a darkened room on the other side of the screen. It looked surprisingly like the one on this side of the screen only everything was mirror image in that world. She looked back and forth to see if anyone was in this strange room.
She felt her shoulders nudge the screen and pop she was on the other side, sitting in the mirror chair, looking at the mirror screen. And yes, the text was backwards but it seemed that this was the way that things ought to be. She had no trouble reading it. It said the same thing that she had just typed while she was on the other side of the screen.
This was ridiculous. She must be imagining it. She touched the screen again. It gave way just like before. Again she stuck her head through the screen and found herself being pulled through it just like before. As she sat there looking at the screen she found herself becoming incredulous. This couldn’t be happening.
She touched the screen a third time. This time it was solid to the touch. Had she really just passed through the screen of her computer? And what if she had? Who was going to believe her? But she knew now what she was going to write about.
“He had been sitting in front of the computer for half an hour. The glow of the screen would keep him awake for hours. He hadn’t written a word. His fingers sat on the home row keys. Mr. Smith, his high school keyboard teacher would have been proud of him. Except he wasn’t typing. He was sitting there staring at the blank place on the screen where his words should be…”
Sweet dreams, don’t forget to tell the people you love that you love them, and most important of all, be kind.