"No. Thank you," Nora answered, and then she hung up. Omigod! She had done it. She giggled to herself, and began to finish her supper. She realized now that she couldn't wait until eight. It probably was a porn channel, she decided, but she didn't care. She and Jeff had once watched a couple of movies from the video store. Her husband had claimed to be turned off by them, or so he had said. Nora had thought the films silly, but they were certainly stimulating, she recalled. It was probably just what she needed. An evening of dirty movies, and a pint of caramel praline ice cream. She picked her chicken down to the bone and cleaned her plate of everything else.

Putting her dishes in the dishwasher, Nora went upstairs, showered quickly, and got into a clean nightshirt that had a teddy bear on the front of it claiming, "I don't do mornings." Giving her ice cream ten seconds in the microwave, she got a spoon and a glass of water, and set them on the table by her large recliner. Then settling into the chair with a contented sigh, she picked up the remote as the clock struck eight p.m., pressed it on, and coded in sixty-nine. The screen was black.

"Oh, for God's sakes," Nora muttered aloud. Did they forget to send her the signal? Damn! She had been looking forward to this.

But then suddenly the screen lightened, and a rather mellifluous voice said silkily, "Good evening, and welcome to The Channel, where your fantasies become your reality."

Well, that was certainly confusing, but absolutely intriguing. Then the screen changed again. Nora found herself looking into a rather large living room that came into perfect view. "Oh," she said softly. It was a beautiful room. Just like one she had always imagined, but certainly not one that Jeff would have liked. It was very modern and elegant. All glass and chrome and brass with large overstuffed white sofas and chairs, with emerald green and sapphire blue silk pillows.