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Sunday, February 2, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TalkingWithTheDigitallyDead

“And you can quote me on that one.”
The Raven* #quote


          Today was another busy day! Another birthday party happened today this time for a family member. To parties in one weekend, what a doozy! My friend CJ only recently left and I'm kinda bushed so I gotta give you another flash fiction from the archive...that's what I get for not writing them ahead of time like I usually do, but I had to prepare for the weekend. Still, I hope you enjoy...and if you don't, think of adorable animals like kittens and puppies, that's good for cheering up. 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.
       “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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