The amorphous field of blue-green phosphenes fall away from the GLARE of the mid-day sun through her sunglasses.

Julia's eyes finally focus on the magazine she had spread across her chest. Beyond it, her tan stomach glistens with sunscreen. Her arms, to her sides feel heavy on the armrests of the chaise. Her string bikini bottom is a bright yellow. Her legs are stretched out all the way down to her shiny red toenails. Her parents were Mediterranean and Julia's dark hair and skin show it.

"MMmmmmmm", she moans sleepily. It's a warm day, but not hot. Yet, she has been sound asleep and the pages stick a little to her skin as she lifts them from her breasts.

Her mind catches up with her eyes. Julia is at home, sunbathing by the pool, among the date palm. She is waking up having fallen asleep reading her magazine.

She looks at the clock. "Oh,... time..." Sensation is returning to her skin as she swings her feet to the Italian tile of the patio. She gets up and goes inside.

She passes by Ben's home office and computer room. Like hers, his parents were also Mediterranean, but from the Moorish side. He is sitting at his computer, an intense black man with cornrows on his head which trail into long braids down his back.

On Ben's monitor is the face of a homeless man, surrounded by images of despair -- images torn from the Internet by a multi-media dictionary server.

Ben is saying, "I don't know what to tell you. I'm just barely getting by here, myself."

The homeless man is irate. "Yeah, well I'm not getting by! I lost my house. I'm living in the shelter down the street. I come here to the library to try and find a job. But you -- you did this. You put my company out of business!"

Images on the screen become more violent as the man becomes more agitated.

Julia decides not to interrupt, but she can still hear Ben as she heads down the hallway to her bedroom.

Ben is saying, "I'm sorry. I just did what they paid me to do. It seemed like the right thing at the time. How could I predict my software would replace so many people?"

Julia finds her dress and slips it on over her head. She steps into sandals and picks up her bag -- ready for Yoga class.

Ben is no longer talking to the homeless man when she returns to the office door. "Honey, my class has already started," she says.

"OK, have a nice time," Ben replies absently.

What's he doing, she wonders silently, channel surfing? On one of his other monitors is "The Celestine Prophecy" -- direct-to-video. It was at some point after the hero had learned to see energy -- and there was a woman standing there with swirls of colored smoke waving around her.

Copyright 2000 Stewart Dickson and Rebecka Dickson