5PM Read Free

recent widow with a two-story mansion for sale. With a potential two million dollar price tag, I have to make sure I nail it. The day moves along slowly and it seems forever for five p.m. to come along.
     
    * * * * * 
     
    I get home an hour after I leave the office feeling like I’ve achieved a minor victory in securing a meeting with Mrs Pellmont for the following Friday. She sounded pleasant enough over the phone and quite enthusiastic with my pitch. If I can sell the place for the right price, the commission alone will nearly pay for Matilda’s private school fees all through primary school.
    As usual, dinner’s ready not long after I get home. Not only is she beautiful, but Talissa is an amazing cook who never fails to satisfy my taste buds, and tonight is no exception.
    We eat at the dinner table for every meal. No TV or anything else to tear our attention away from being a family unit. It’s enough of a struggle to get Isaac to eat anything other than chicken nuggets. We can certainly do without the lure of cartoons or whatever it might be he watches during the hours between coming home from school and having dinner.
    Each of us takes a turn in talking about our day. Then the kids have their baths, and we read to them for fifteen minutes before it’s time for them to go to bed. Talissa and I usually wind down with a glass or two of wine while relaxing in front of the TV. Tonight is interrupted by Isaac calling out to his mum. He’s not well, so she takes him into our bed and asks if I mind if she goes to bed early. I smile and say it’s okay and head to the office.
     
    * * * * * 
     
    I sit at the computer and look at the business plan I have written up so far. It looks pretty basic, and I stare and wonder whether I should just be satisfied with working at Phelps Brothers. I’m earning a pretty decent salary, and if I go out on my own, I could risk everything.
    Sure, Phelps is a pompous superficial dickhead who would sell his own family for a quick buck, but there are much worse out there I could be working for. If he even gets a sniff I’m trying to pull clients away to start my own real estate business, I’m as good as dead in the water in this industry.
    I think of what Roger was talking about—some silly 3D chat program he uses to fulfil some missing sexual gratification he’s missing from his life. What the hell, I’ll have a look even though I’m not at all looking to fill a void which doesn’t exist.
    It doesn’t take long to find and download the software for 3DDreamchat, and I restart the PC to enable it to run properly. I grab a pair of 3D glasses from the lounge room and boot up the new program. I have to pick a name and design my avatar, and quickly learn the glasses aren’t required. It’s not apparently the immersion type 3D, but rather means you can see the chat rooms from all angles. My avatar is much more handsome than I am, and I use very little imagination and just call him Terry25. Who the hell needs to know my real age anyway?
    I look great as an animation, and I must admit the graphics are almost lifelike. It doesn’t look like a cartoon, but rather a realistic looking world. I look at the blonde surfer avatar and admire my great looks. It takes me a few minutes of clicking my mouse’s cursor at various places within the program’s window leading me to find somewhere I can get free stuff including a decent wardrobe of clothes and a few accessories. I have a chuckle as I think about me spending more time deciding on what I’ll dress a virtual ‘me’ in than what I do for my real life clothes.
    So where the hell do I go now? There’s a prompt box where I can type avatar names to search for, and before I can decide on the wisdom of it, I type in Roger’s sleazy screen name. He appears a few seconds later in a small reception type room, which contains two sofa lounges. One has his avatar seated upon it and my own in the other sofa. It doesn’t take long for speech