This is a brief scene of a more or less extemporaneous event that happened on a talk channel. It has been, to some extent, prettied up, but the people who saw it happen can attest to it being true.

In the meantime, recognizing that Channel 1 is a stage and most of its inhabitants players who strut their hours upon the stage and then are heard no more, here is my account of that night:

A pleasent walk through my rose garden with the woman I love, strolling hand in hand under a starry sky whose half-moon was the perfect touch to a lovely evening. Then, just as I was turning to lose myself in those baby-blue eyes, a voice from beyond the rose bushes burst through channel 1, saying "I am Gerrald Tarrant's secret love."

As quickly as a summer storm comes from nowhere amdist the islands Amber's eyes went from baby blue to the still grey color of the ocean before a hurricane strikes. I knew that voice, a dear girl, but a friend who had mistaken my brotherly hugs, my roses, and my gentlemanly manners for something else, other than the friendship which was all that existed.

It was a moment that extended into hours: me, ignoring that voice and trying to get Amber's attention; Amber, ignoring me and levelling a flat- voiced "Well?" to the woman on channel 1; the voice, not realizing what she was doing, ignoring this still, quiet tableu. I dropped to my knees, yet still Amber ignored me. It wasn't until then that I realized how important Amber was to me. Slipping my hand into my coat pocket, I took advantage of CyberSpace to conjure up a fine Havannan Cigar. Removing the cigar from my pocket, I slid the band off and into my hand, tossing the cigar to Vince Vega.

Then, with Amber still distracted by the voice on the other side of the rose bushes, I took her left hand, slipped the cigar band on the third finger, and watched as she jerked her hand from my grasp in anger. Then she noticed the perfectly fitting band of gold on her finger; and me, on my knees, not daring to breath so as not to spoil the moment and lose this precious lady forever.

Anger gave way to confusion as her eyes softened a little. Her lips, the color of the finest roses, parted slightly as recognition began to dawn. She looked back down at me; at the cigar band; then at me. All thoughts of other people forgotten as her mouth dropped open to form a perfect 'O'.

Daring to breath, I asked, simply, "Will you marry me?" All around us the chatter of channel 1 fell to a hush, with even the newbies sensing something special was happening. As her lips slowly reshaped into the biggest smile I had ever seen, I knw what her answer would be. Finally, breaking a silence into which a pin drop could be heard, she nodded, and cheers broke out all over.

Just an actor playing a part

This is a brief scene of a more or less extemporaneous event that happened on a talk channel. It has been, to some extent, prettied up, but the people who saw it happen can attest to it being true.

In the meantime, recognizing that Channel 1 is a stage and most of its inhabitants players who strut their hours upon the stage and then are heard no more, here is my account of that night:

A pleasent walk through my rose garden with the woman I love, strolling hand in hand under a starry sky whose half-moon was the perfect touch to a lovely evening. Then, just as I was turning to lose myself in those baby-blue eyes, a voice from beyond the rose bushes burst through channel 1, saying "I am Gerrald Tarrant's secret love."

As quickly as a summer storm comes from nowhere amdist the islands Amber's eyes went from baby blue to the still grey color of the ocean before a hurricane strikes. I knew that voice, a dear girl, but a friend who had mistaken my brotherly hugs, my roses, and my gentlemanly manners for something else, other than the friendship which was all that existed.

It was a moment that extended into hours: me, ignoring that voice and trying to get Amber's attention; Amber, ignoring me and levelling a flat- voiced "Well?" to the woman on channel 1; the voice, not realizing what she was doing, ignoring this still, quiet tableu. I dropped to my knees, yet still Amber ignored me. It wasn't until then that I realized how important Amber was to me. Slipping my hand into my coat pocket, I took advantage of CyberSpace to conjure up a fine Havannan Cigar. Removing the cigar from my pocket, I slid the band off and into my hand, tossing the cigar to Vince Vega.

Then, with Amber still distracted by the voice on the other side of the rose bushes, I took her left hand, slipped the cigar band on the third finger, and watched as she jerked her hand from my grasp in anger. Then she noticed the perfectly fitting band of gold on her finger; and me, on my knees, not daring to breath so as not to spoil the moment and lose this precious lady forever.

Anger gave way to confusion as her eyes softened a little. Her lips, the color of the finest roses, parted slightly as recognition began to dawn. She looked back down at me; at the cigar band; then at me. All thoughts of other people forgotten as her mouth dropped open to form a perfect 'O'.

Daring to breath, I asked, simply, "Will you marry me?" All around us the chatter of channel 1 fell to a hush, with even the newbies sensing something special was happening. As her lips slowly reshaped into the biggest smile I had ever seen, I knw what her answer would be. Finally, breaking a silence into which a pin drop could be heard, she nodded, and cheers broke out all over.

Just an actor playing a part