“I need more cowbell.”
Old Macdonald* #quote
Today I victoriously won with much
success! Anyway onto the flash fiction!
Talking With the Digitally
Dead
The room was creepy. But yet I could feel a sort of calmness. I suppose that's what happens when the decorator chooses to make every piece of furniture the type of white in bleached bone. I felt confused when I sat in a chair with this color and set my computer on a table with that color since both were clearly felt like they were made of wood but didn't feel painted.
The room was creepy. But yet I could feel a sort of calmness. I suppose that's what happens when the decorator chooses to make every piece of furniture the type of white in bleached bone. I felt confused when I sat in a chair with this color and set my computer on a table with that color since both were clearly felt like they were made of wood but didn't feel painted.
“You have come for my tech support?”
A man said to me. He sat opposite to me across the table. He wore a
black cloak. Just like a reaper. His hand poked out from his robe
like a knife.
“Yes,” I told him.
“Payment,” he replied.
I handed him one thousand dollars in
cash.
“Good. This will suffice. Which also
means that your computer beyond repair and completely dead...all
files beyond recovery....by natural means.”
“Yes.” I needed his help. I had
been so foolish. Storing such important information on my computer
and nowhere else. Then again I didn't want the code for my personal
safe floating in any more places than the computer I always carried
with me. But I still can't believe I forgot the number when I use it
so often. My own safe! “I need my safe password.”
“I will get it for you.” The man
then pulled up a small wooden board from the table. It had printed on
it two numbers, a zero and a one. He then took out a pointer and set
it on the board between the two numbers with his hand on it. “O'
spirit of this man's dead computer. Grace this mortal world again and
return to us his safe password.” His hand then started shaking and
moving between the numbers and the middle of the board rapidly. I
lost track soon enough, I couldn't remember how many times he had
gone back to zero twice or three times in a row before going to one
or vice versa. The pattern of zeros and ones was too complex and
crazy.
Eventually the man stopped. “The
spirit of your dead computer has spoken. Your safe password is
12-34-56.”
“Oh yeah! How could I forget? That's
what I use for everything!”
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