I thought my beloved was still asleep next to me when I started to get up this morning. I moved ever so gently so as not to wake her up. The shutters were closed and it was dark in the bedroom. “Going to pee?” she asked unexpectedly. “No,” I answered standing up next to her, “I am going to check my website to see the number of new comments about my hypertext piece.” Yesterday evening I told her about the recent attack on my Residua from a large number of websites selling all sorts of fakes (“Fakers’ Hypertext,” August 14, 2014). “Behold,” she chuckled, “he freed himself from everything so as to become his own slave!” I got down to my knees and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Now I have another text,” I chuckled gleefully. “There you go!” she laughed and shook her head in awe. I left the bedroom elated by her way with words. “His own slave,” I mumbled to myself as I entered the study and headed for my desktop. I was dying to see how many comments have accumulated since yesterday morning.