This is the Twilight Zone. Nothing here is real, except in the minds of it's participants. Each character contains 8 bits. Together, each byte forms a word. Words not verbilized, but keyed in with no thought for direction or empathy. Aged though we are, harassment non the less. I am guilty as charged. Alone I sit, 30 before midnight. Thinking of how as a child I was bullied and spat upon. Real pain felt in the "clam" pit. Spat upon by those with no regard for another. I do not know "Tal", but Tal is with me in the "clam" pit. Screaming for help, hoping for someone, anyone to hear.


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