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'Alice, stop following me!'; the boy shouted as if running away from the girl. 'I'm done! I'm fucking done!'
A couple was fighting on the side of the busy road. It was visible to any outsider he was trying to avoid the girl's advances.
'You can't do that!'; she cried in the middle of the pavement: 'You can't do that!'
'Alice, I'm done. I want to break up. Please accept it!' He spoke with a strange sort of despairing tenderness: 'I think it is the best for both.'
She stared at him as though he were insane: 'Why? Is it because I didn't want to have sex with you? I told you I need time!'; she was sobbing from rage or disappointment. She couldn't understand herself. The tears rolled down her cheeks that she didn't clean: 'Is it someone else?'
'No, Alice.' His voice broke on his words, and now his own eyes filled too. They stood together next to the traffic light. The boy gently placed a hand over her shoulder and said his last words: 'I don't love you anymore. I'm sorry.'
It took two seconds for Alice to see red. In two seconds, she slapped him with all the strength she had that it ended up pushing him to the road. Two seconds to see the bone structure being crushed by the speed impact. Two seconds to smell the burnt rubber of the vehicle. Two seconds to hear the cracking sound of the crushed skull by the front wheel. Two seconds to be splattered with blood. Just two seconds.
But those seconds would haunt Alice forever. And on auto-pilot, she screamed her lungs out. Shouting for help, crying all her theatrical despair while she sat on the pavement in her new red dress covered in Day's blood. People appeared around her, holding her. Alice only saw flashes of people around her, holding her. The ambulance, the paramedics, people and more people. And him, a tall man in a dark suit, long hair waving with the wind and eyes as golden as the sun. She would always wonder since that day, did he see what truly happened?
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'How bad is it?'; Alice interrupted the silence. 'Is there any chance that we can beat it again?'
The doctor looked at her and hesitated: 'I don't think so. I'm sorry to be blunt about it, Alice.' Robert closed the folder and placed it over his desk. 'I can recommend radiation therapy, but with the time you have left, do you want to be going through this process?'
'How long do I have if I do chemo?'; she asked. Robert paused again before answering. She could see he was torn between duty as a physician and the compassion facing another human while giving their dead sentence: 'Maybe one year, maybe a bit more.'
'What would you do, Robert, in my place?'; she asked suddenly. The question startled him into looking straight back at her for an instant, then away again. 'I would fight the crap out of it. I'm married, and I have a friend who needs me more than ever. I couldn't give myself the luxury to give up, even if I knew that it would decrease my quality of life. I just can't imagine leaving Penny behind.'
'I have no one.'; said Alice quietly. 'But I don't want to die, not like this.' Her voice broke with those last words. Robert reached across his desk and took her hand briefly, patting it gently with his thumb.
'I'm sorry Alice, I really am.' His eyes were wet now, too, though he tried to hide them from view.
'I will think about chemo. I just need to see what other options I have on the table.' She stood up and turned towards the door, feeling strangely drained by their conversation. As she passed through the doorway, Alice wondered if she was paying the bill of her acts or yet those to come.
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> Dear Dr Alice Dawn,
>
> First of all, we praise your dedication to continuing the promising work of Dr Delbert D. Whiterabbit. The death of this young scientist was undoubtedly a loss that cannot be appeased in the scientific world. It is with praise that we esteem your persistence and dedication, which are an example to be taken into account in the field of molecular medicine. However, and with a heavy heart, we hereby announce that your submission for experimentation of T-DNA black particles in human trials has not been accepted. Dr Whiterabbit's initial proposal was undoubtedly a breath of fresh air in the field of human genome research. The idea that we could manipulate or collect temporal information in a DNA marker - T-DNA - is undoubtedly humanity's dream. Still, the data provided through experimentation on mice and rats need to be more comprehensible and sustainable for us to give it a positive evaluation. The science is indeed fascinating, but at the present time, we cannot project this vision except in science fiction. I hope this letter does not divert you from your field of expertise. Medical science needs brilliant minds like yours, but hopefully, your next project will be realistic to the needs of humankind.
>
> Without further ado and with all due respect,
>
> 1992, United Nations Scientific and Medical Research Commission
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Alice decided to go to the grocery store in her pink pyjamas under a long trench coat and her messy unwashed hair hidden under a hat. Today she hated everyone and everything, and she needed red wine. Red wine and cheese. She would get some nice ripe cheeses from the refrigerator case at the back of the market. She loved their big wheels with holes in them and bought herself an old bottle or two of that good red wine.
She walked with her cheese and two bottles to the queue at the cashier's counter. The line was enormous, but it moved steadily forward as people paid up and went away again into the rain-soaked streets. Alice had been waiting about five minutes when another woman joined the end of the queue behind her and asked her politely if she could skip the line.
'What?'; Alice said. 'Are you crazy? It'll be your turn soon.'
'I am pregnant, and you only have three items. I thought maybe...'
Alice interrupted her by saying: 'Is none of my concern if you are pregnant or not pregnant, lady. Close your fucking legs!'; Alice turned white with rage and started towards the pregnant woman who stood there awkwardly: 'Do you see me, lady, cutting line because I had cancer? No! Do you see me cutting the line because I am on the verge of losing my job? No! I wait in the fucking queue like every-fucking-else!'
Everyone was looking at her, and Alice continued to fall into the rabbit hole: 'I am so sick of people taking advantage of me. I work hard! I work so fucking hard I don't have a fucking life. I don't even remember to get fucking laid. And then, they had the audacity! The fucking audacity to call my life work a fucking sci-fi novel. Four fucking times!. And now, I'm dressed like a hobbo, buying some cheese because I deserve each bit of this fucking cheese for a woman with her shit together to pass me in the queue. Why? Why do I have to give up my place? What did I do to not deserve this particular bloody spot on this queue? Why!'
The pregnant woman looked frightened out of her wits and began apologizing profusely. But Alice kept raving until she paid and got outside and down the street where no one else was around except a young man with his dog and two men sitting in front of an apartment house smoking cigarettes.
The dog, a giant german shepherd, lowered his butt and let out a big turd, ignored by its owner. Alice saw the big fresh turd left on the sidewalk, and exploded. She picked up the massive dung with her bare hand and threw it to the dog's owner's head. He jumped up, startled.
'You think I won't hit you? You want me to beat you? Huh? Here is what you should do, you piece of shit. Pick up your fat dog's shit!'
He stared at her dumbfounded, and as he saw her approaching him, she was stopped by a police officer coming along the sidewalk.
'Ma'am, can we help you?'
Alice had a temper.
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