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I have finally made up my mind to start a thread of my own. Here I will write short stories, poems and later, when I learn how I'll add art. My goal is to turn my musings into games. Enjoy.
DAY ONE
Josephine Moore had always dreamed of being a writer. As a young girl she would sit quietly at the kitchen table, writing down recipes while her mother cooked. She was too young to know how to form the letters correctly and too young to know all of the ingredients her mother was using. She knew what she was smelling as the familiar pleasant aromas wafted towards her nose. "Tonight's dinner will be pot roast with potatoes, onions, carrots, celery and a bay leaf.", she wrote carefully. That was the easy part, the hard part was knowing how her mother made the gravy?
"I need to watch closely but I can't see the stove very well", she thought, "Mom's in the way."
She came up with a plan.
She would stand up, grabbing the empty cup on the table in front of her and take it to the sink, pretending to be thirsty. "If my mother doesn't approve, I'll quietly say 'yes ma'am' and place the cup in the sink real slowly, while I study every thing on the counter in front of her", was her plan of action. Just as she was standing up, her mother spoke to her over her left shoulder, without turning around, "Jo, I think it's time to go outside and check the laundry." Josephine said, "yes ma'am" as she brought her cup to the sink, anyway. Their eyes met and she gave her mother a beautiful smile. It was easy because she thought her mother was the most beautiful woman on earth and it would also give Josephine a minute to study the items on the counter. Her mother had a surprise for Josephine. She suddenly turned and scooped her up into a huge bear hug that made her forget what was on her mind. This was so unexpected from her mom since she wasn't the hugging type.
What made her think of her mother, just now?
"What's that smell?", she thought as she struggled to wake up.
"Why did I fall asleep with the light on?", Jo was waking up but her feet felt like led, her eyes felt like they were glued shut and she was so hungry her stomach ached.
Jo managed to sit up and after a few seconds she slowly opened her eyes.
"Oh, my!", was all she could think of, for now.
"The beauty of this place was every thing the brochure had promised.", she thought as she slowly stretched her arms, while wiggling her toes until she felt secure enough to stand up.
"Jet lag.", was what crashed into her mind as she slowly, stood
"No need for me to be in a hurry here, if I should fall...", her mind trailed off as she began to take in her new surroundings.
The sparse but clean hut was elevated on pylons, situated with the bay on one side and jungle on the other. This was a popular place for writers, artists and anyone else who didn't mind roughing it. In all, there were 5 huts, in an oblique circle. Close enough to see each one but not too close as people came here to get away from crowds, noise and strife.
"No indoor plumbing, no electricity, no land line phone so once the battery's depleted, no cell phone either", as Jo quickly powered up her cell phone. She only left it on long enough to share her GPS reading with her husband by downloading it directly to their home computer. She couldn't resist sending a quick email telling him she arrived in one piece as she snapped a picture of herself. Once the email was confirmed she once again powered down her phone while thinking, "I did it, I'm really alone!"
She opened her luggage, a huge duffle bag on wheels, pulled out her swim suit, t-shirt, shorts, a towel, a bottle of biodegradable soap from a recipe she made an A with in college. You see, that's how Jo could afford a trip to such a secluded little piece of paradise. She sent her recipe to an independent lab before submitting it in class. She received the results from the lab and applied for a copyright and a state license to manufacture and sell it. She would either receive an A in chemistry or become rich but she never dreamed of both! Now, Jo could enjoy the fruits of her...
"What is that smell?" "One minute it smells like pot roast, the next it smells like wood burning at a campfire.", she thought as her light mood was turning dark.
"I'd better take this along.", as she pulled her .357 magnum revolver from the handgun safe. She had two speed loaders full of hollow points but left them in the safe as she nimbly loaded her gun using bullets from one of the two boxes of ammunition she brought.
"I ain't no Amelia Earhart", she told her husband before her flight took off.
She knew she would never use all of this ammo but she also had time for some practice shooting.
The owner of the Island warned her of wild boar, crocs and gators that were always ready to give a warm welcome to any sucker that forgot where they were. That's ok because this wasn't her first camping trip although it was her first time, alone.
"I won't step foot out of the door until I'm ready to shoot.", she thought, as she quickly raised her gun out of the west window, the jungle side. She spotted a target and lined up the sights, exhaled as she pretended to shoot, lowered the weapon and repeated the process until it was a reflex.
"Now, I'm ready for the day!", she whispered while she snapped on the leather bag around her waist she used to stow her weapon, ammo, phone, pocket knife, tweezers, scissors, needle-nosed pliers, picture ID and a couple of fishing lures. One lizard on a weedless hook and a popping lure for top water that was still in its box. The box went into the bag and she tied the lizard onto the rod with the bait caster reel that she always had luck with.
"I might as well get started on finding some fish for dinner.", she thought as the hunger pangs hit harder this time, "OK!", she said laughing to herself.
**Don't judge this story yet, I've only started on day one and it's before 8am**
Day One The Journey
Jo stepped out on to the porch and lowered the door. This was accomplished by repositioning two bamboo poles to a lower notch carved into the outer frame of the door. She did the same for the rest of the hurricane shutters while she walked along the wrap around deck. It as well as the floor of the hut were bamboo. The hut would now be shaded as the sun was already blazing in the eastern sky.
Below the deck she located a small closet that stored the oars, rope, buckets and various brooms and brushes. She also noted a shelf with a mess kit, metal cups and a campfire percolator. "Well, look here?", she mused when she spotted a Maxwell House coffee can with the scoop inside. "I was going to drink sun tea but now I can have both." She grabbed the rope, 2 buckets and an oar, "that should do it, for now.", but as she turned she saw behind her on the opposite shelf, a rifle, with scope and three boxes of ammo. "I had better find a quiet little place on the beach to cook and eat my dinner." With that, she turned and walked down the boat ramp to the tied canoe. It too was clean but she took out her towel, folded and used it to sit on as the bench was already very warm.
"I'm glad I've already put on sunscreen!", as she untied the canoe and pushed off, away from the ramp. Just then a 4-ponder flipped for joy, not more than 15 feet away from the dock, "Come to Mama.", she breathed. With the oar on the floor in front of her she reaches for her rod without taking her eyes off of the water, looking for future signs of activity. Not a ripple was to be seen but she made her first cast anyway, towards the dense marsh grasses. Then she just laid her pole down and started rowing, very slowly towards the water fall that was off to the left of where she cast off towards. She set the oar down and picked up the rod, slowly making three turns and one tiny flick of the wrist. "Come to Mama.", she almost whistled. She repeated this process until she could see the lizard that was missing a 1/4 inch of it's tail. Jo, by this time had shifted her position so that she was sitting on her knees, Indian style in the canoe. This added height helped her see into the water instead of into the glare off of the water.
"I may have better luck this evening when the sun is off of the water?" Jo knew from experience that fish like shade and rain. During the heat of the day and the dog days of summer, fish go deep and become lethargic. She also began having success when she started thinking like bait, instead of the fish.
She could hear the waterfall and it sounded like a symphony, with the crash of the cymbals as the water rushed over each rock. What a lush and lively place this is. She held back in the shadows after checking every branch for snakes and every inch of the bank for crocodiles, gators aren't too bad since humans aren't normally on their menu but everything is on a croc's menu! The bank was clear and the birds were everywhere. All kinds of birds, many she didn't know the names of with every color imaginable. "I knew I should have brought my sketch pad and pencils." She had to wrestle with her emotions to keep her hand from reaching for her phone. She instinctively reached for her gun instead, cocked it and placed on the towel beside her. "I'm looking for dinner, not to become dinner."
Once inside the cool lagoon all the cares and worries melted away as she quietly bathed. The birds gave her a private concert making it hard for her to leave this natural air conditioned piece of the island. She quickly dried, dressed and packed, leaving no trace behind as if she was never there.
She removed an empty, folded tote bag from her day pack and placed the day pack back on the canoe. Taking the tote bag, oar and gun she headed off in to the jungle for food and fire wood. She used the oar to gently brush aside the foliage and to turn over dead wood. "I hate snakes, but I respect their job so I'd rather live and let live." Aloud she said, "Okay, snakes, ya'll leave Mama alone and I'll promise not to use your babies as bait!", she giggled softly. As a precaution, she had put the gun in the waist band of her shorts earlier at the canoe. The bottom of the tote bag was full of starter and wood, the top of the tote was full of exotic fruit, aloe and a few herbs, for her future fish.
She celebrated her success by drinking a third of the water she had captured into her drinking bottle. She had left the other five at the canoe. She turned to head back to the canoe. As she started to rinse off a mango that was slightly bruised, she caught a glimpse of a huge snake crossing the path in front of her. It looked to be a constrictor and she wasn't in the mood for a hug. She did watch it long enough to determine it's course so she wouldn't intersect it if she decided to double back. She turned, again and continued on the path, taking her further way from the canoe and snake.
The humidity was high inside the canopy and soon Jo was sweating but she stayed happy knowing the soothing lagoon would be down hill on the return trip. She was just about a mile from the lagoon before she realized the path was taking her gradually up hill. Beads of sweat popped up on her forehead at about that same time. She had no idea what time it was but sensed it was about 10am. She determined to power up her phone at the crest of the hill as she was sure to see more beautiful sights.
Jo wasn't disappointed, the crest of the hill afforded her a nearly 360 degree panoramic view. She powered up her phone, switched it to camera mode and just then, a shadow crossed over her, making it hard for her to read her phone's icons. "What, the..."
The acrid smell of smoke assaulted her nose and her eyes began to sting. She looked for the source of the fire but the jungle was blocking her view. She switched off camera mode and called Dwight Miller, her pilot who picked up on the second ring.
"Dwight, there's a fire on the island.", Jo said in a surprisingly calm voice.
"I know, Mrs. Moore.", Dwight had just received the latest satellite imagery. "I was just going to call your husband.", he said.
"How bad is it and when will you be here?", Jo's voice was getting a little shaky.
"The wind has been from the east and it hasn't grown since 6am. I'm going to continue to monitor the fire but I'm fueled up and ready now, if you want to leave. The soonest I can be there is 6pm if I leave within the hour.", Dwight Miller sounded a little tense, too."
"What time is it and fess up, what's wrong?", Jo's voice was stronger now and she was on her guard. All through out the conversation she had been moving in a very slow circle, keeping a look out for wild life.
"It's just before noon, here and coming up on 1pm on the island." "We're professional friends, Jo and if you were my sister I would get the hell over there now, no hesitation.", he said calmly.
"Why, do you think someone set this fire?", Jo's writer brain kicked into high gear and smelled a good mystery coming from the direction of the flames.
"Let's just say that I personally checked every square inch of the island the same day I delivered you there.", Dwight said without hesitation and with authority she hadn't heard him exert before now.
With that last statement from Dwight Miller, a sudden chill went up Jo's back. "Call my husband, make a connecting flight for me and get me hell off...
"Mrs. Moore!",
"Mrs. Moore!", "Are you alright?", Dwight spoke but knew he was talking to a dead phone.
"I hope she leaves her phone on!", Dwight thought as he quickly dialed Mark Moore's cell phone number Jo had supplied him with. While he waited for Mark to answer, he found a connecting flight and booked it. Mark answered on the 5th ring and sounded sleepy but became wide awake when Dwight told him about the fire and Jo's desire to leave now. Mark jotted down the flight info and repeated it back to Dwight to confirm.
Mark asked one question of Dwight, "Do you think the fire's natural?"
Dwight was prepared for a similar question but it still caught him off guard as he considered how abruptly his conversation with Jo had ended.
Mark patiently waited for Dwight's reply, "No sir, I could get fired or worse for saying this but it's like I told your wife, if she were my sister I would get her the hell off that island! I walked the entire island circumference before cutting through the middle towards my plane and the huts. Then I double checked it by air, clean as a brand new refrigerator, sir."
Mark said as a slow tear rolled down his cheek, "Well, then get her the hell off of that island, and thanks Dwight, that's precious cargo you're hauling.", Mark said as his hands started to shake while he ended the call.
**Third part coming soon...**
Please, give me some feed back. At the end of part one I asked that no one "judge" the story because it isn't finished but I do welcome comments.
At the end of part one I asked that no one "judge" the story because it isn't finished but I do welcome comments.What sort of comments do you want? Isn't "I liked X" or "This part was good" a value judgment of some type?
a value judgment of some type?
Day One Afternoon Run, for your life
"Whew, that was close!",
Jo just let her body drift for a few seconds while she swam in the lagoon, fully clothed. She had caught a glint of light from the ocean. She focused on her conversation with Dwight as she was ending her call, when, ...
"s-pitz-z".
A bullet from a high powered rifle ripped into her leather pouch and knocked her flat on the ground. She was dazed and confused, still holding the phone and could hear a man calling her name but it sounded...so far...away.
"Josephine Moore! Don't go to sleep!", her brain screamed!
"Wake up but don't sit up, someone tried to murder you!",
she was totally focused now. She powered up her phone, checked the time of her conversation with Dwight Miller and compared it to real time. 8-10 minutes had elapsed, she again turned it off.
"Good! I'm in one piece.",
she breathed easier as she found the slug in her leather pouch.
"This is twice a leather bag has saved me from a more severe injury, top that PETA!",
that's a sure sign Jo was returning to the land of the living, she still had her sarcasm.
"A gut wound would be fatal, out here!",
she thought as she slithered over the crest of the hill.
She had slowly rolled over as she wasn't sure if she was still being watched? Her next plan of action was to slither on her belly until she was headed down hill then stand up and
"Run, like my @ss is on fire!",to the lagoon and dive in because,
"No crocodile will want any part of me, I'm throwing off way too much adrenalin."
"Everything on me but the gun's getting wet!",
sounded great to her as she quickly released the strap of the leather pouch from around her waist. With practiced movements, she clicked the clasp of the traps of the pouch together and slung it on her shoulder, grabbed a branch that resembled a broom and placed her gun in the waist band of her shorts with her right hand as she started dragging the branch behind her with her left.
"I'm glad I left the tote at the base of the hill.",
she thought as it was coming into view. She was a little surprised to see it considering what she had just been through.
"One thing at a time, Jo!", she reasoned with herself, "No multitasking until you have your hands on that loaded rifle."
She could almost smell the coffee.
With a fluid motion, she dropped the branch and grabbed the oar with her left hand and the tote with her right, letting the leather pouch slide down her right arm and into the tote. No longer caring if someone picked up her trail because it will end at the lagoon.
"Never to be seen again!",
she hoped would not become the title of her next mystery.
"I know it's risky but I've got to light a fire, it'll be dark in the jungle, soon and that's where I'll wait for Dwight."
The wood she had gathered was dried hard wood and shouldn't smoke but she would have to do something to screen the fire from the air?
The Army would use that camouflage netting for daytime but I guess it's lights and heat out for night. I think the heat seeking infrared detection works in daylight too?
"Jo, stop it! You're obsessing again. Breathe in through the nose, exhale through the mouth and tell your brain to shut up!"
As she placed the tote and tossed the leather pouch in the canoe, removed the gun from her waist band, she crouched down to remove her boots and socks. The socks were draped over one boot and her gun was in the other and placed in the canoe.
After a few priceless moments, she stood up beside the canoe and untied it from the tree. When she had located a large flat rock with her feet she used it to spring off of while she dove into the canoe from the water.
"That was a first!",
she mused silently because this entire trip had been filled with them.
"So this is why writers go to secluded places for their hiatus'?",
this thought amusing her even more because she felt as if a master magician had just taught her an ancient trade secret.
She hoped the boat didn't have a spy in the air but she rowed like she was trying out for the Olympics, none the less. So far so good, she stood up on the dock and spotted the perfect hiding place that was directly under the hut she had spent last night in.
"Is this still Thursday? I swear it feels like I've been here for at least two days."
The tension was easing, a little. At least she could feel the cool ocean breezes and hardly any humidity at the hut. She unloaded the canoe placing her belongings in the closet. While there she pulled on her socks and boots. Next, she took down the rifle and ammo, loaded it and propped it up beside her gear. Then, she pulled down a metal cup and the coffee can, opened it and took off the lid of the perculator. Then, she pulled out a bottle of water from the daypack. Removing it's cap, she poured water into the perculator, with the basket still inside, measured the coffee into the basket, placing lids on everything and grabbing the rifle and perculator, left the closet to return to the canoe.
"What would Mark do?",
she tried to remain brave but the days events were about to overwhelm her as she thought of her husband and what he must be thinking...
A plan came to her as she stood behind the closet with the deck above, giving her a place to hide and think. She needed to hide the canoe, light a fire, call Dwight and Mark, gather all of her belongings...
"That's it!",
she breathed the words as she was drying the inside of the canoe with her towel. The only question glaringly unanswered was,
"Will I have time?"
**Fourth part, a little later**
I'm sorry for the delay. My intention was to take three days off, not three weeks!
I know this is a work of fiction but I want my stories to be as factual as possible. Hollywood cranks out enough fiction.
Well, this is the final part to this, my first story. I'm surprised so many of you have read this and don't be shy. If, my story is dull, boring or just plain, I can take it. I only ask that you obey the rules of Armor Games and please don't spam or I will flag the comment.
Day One Rescued Or Recovered?
Jo crept up the steps and into the hut to remove her bag that was still mostly packed. Just in case, she did a final once over looking for anything personal that may have dropped out of the bag. When she was satisfied the hut was clean she left without touching the shutters. Step one of her plan was completed when she reached the canoe.
She unzipped the duffle bag, pulled out her favorite baggy sweat shirt, jeans and a hat, placing these on the dock beside the canoe. She went to the storage closet and removed her gear and food. Back at the canoe she pulled all of the clothes out of the bag and rolled up everything separately and started stuffing the jeans, first. She laid down beside her dummy on the dock and made a few adjustments to it until she was satisfied it was at least the same size. Step two was now completed.
She placed the dummy into the canoe and tossed in several pieces of fruit and other items but not the hat. She decided to put it on after she quickly tied her hair into a ponytail. After untying the canoe from the cleat she untied the rope, coiled it and tossed it into her almost empty bag. She tossed the oar into the canoe and pushing hard sent it drifting towards the lagoon. Step three, done.
She was almost to the home stretch and could almost taste the dirt on home plate but the ump wasn't saying, "Safe", yet.
Now, to light a fire that could either help her or get her killed? "This will be the last thing I do.", she wanted to whisper. As she packed up everything except the rifle and the firewood into the duffle bag she started having a sour feeling in her stomach. She didn't take this warning for granted. The only fire on the island was already burning on the opposite side of the island and heading her way. While these thoughts were racing through her over stressed mind, she dragged the duffle bag under the hut and into the shadows that were lengthening as the sun was slowly sinking towards Australia. She grabbed the rifle and made sure it was ready to fire. She grabbed the coffee pot and thought about taking it upstairs but that could wait until after dark. She set it down just on the dark side of a pylon and moved to an optimum spot where she could barely make out the canoe but looking the opposite way could still see the breakers beyond the beach. Step four was over.
She took out her phone and pocket knife and placed them in front of her while she grabbed three pieces of fruit. She turned the phone on and dialed Dwight's number first. She had just opened her knife when he answered,
"Jo, is that you"?, and then the dam broke and her eyes flooded with so much emotion she was glad she called him instead of Mark, first.
"Give me a minute Dwight, I'm acting like a five year old girl, camping in the back yard for the first time and getting scared of the dark!", the words spilling out of Jo's mouth sounded like a strangers voice.
"Okay, I'm ready to talk now. I'm sitting under the hut with my gear and the rifle from the storage closet. This is the soonest I could call, by the way, what time is it?"
Dwight answered, "4:55, your time. I should be there in one hour or by 6:30 at the latest."
"Dwight, please call Mark. If I broke down to you I know I'll only upset him by crying again if I hear his voice."
Just then, Mark cut in, "Too late, Dwight called me while you were being afraid of the dark."
Dwight spoke up and said, "The Navy is in charge of this rescue because I heard the shot and called them first. I'm sorry, Mark, if that upsets you but the Navy and Air Force are still stationed close to the Solomons and Australia. They asked me to tag along for a positive ID."
"Well, I'm thankful and touched by your concern but as of now, this is still a rescue, not a recovery!
Mark asked Jo, "Tell me what happened when you were taking to Dwight; what stopped the bullet?"
Jo started with the last words she spoke to Dwight before she heard the s-spitz, as the bullet ripped through some foliage a few feet in front of her.
"...I'm not bleeding, just bruised. I was shot by someone a couple of miles off shore on the western side of the island, where the fire's burning. I was knocked on my back a few feet but that worked to my advantage by putting me closer to the ridge line. I played possum until the pain hit me full force then I rolled over and belly crawled over the rim of the hill for ten feet, stood up and ran like I was on fire to the lagoon. The pocket knife, inside the leather pouch stopped the bullet. The knife was still warm when I touched it."
... Jo could hear the faint sound of a helicopter.
..."Dwight?", she whispered, "Are you approaching, in a helicopter, now?"
"Yes. Stay put, we're not alone. We're going to pretend to just fly around, checking out the fire. Check your phone's battery and keep your phone on.", Dwight said with that authoritative voice.
"Just talk to me until you land, I've got 90% battery life left", she was still whispering.
Mark said, "He hasn't hung up, keep telling me what happened."
"If I get quiet, I'll hold the phone to my heart, okay?
...So, I made it to the lagoon and dove in as soon as I set my gun down and put my day pack into the canoe. The water was cool, not cold; just what I needed to calm down yet still feel alert. I still don't now know how fast the fire's growing. I figured the lagoon was my safest place to hold out. Then, I had the idea to wait here, at the hut. The rifle was what tipped the scale.",...
Jo's mind started to wander as she was scanning the sky for the helicopter.
"Jo?", Dwight called out over a megaphone from the helicopter.
"Bye, Darlin'. I think this is my cab?", Jo said as she grabbed her gear and stowed the rifle, ammo and the coffee pot into the storage shed. "I'll call you as soon as I can. I miss you!"
The arsonists responsible for the islands fire and Jo's attempted murder were eventually captured after setting another island ablaze. Three years after Josephine Moore's wild island adventure, the men were in prison and she was off to another island, Scotland.
the end
As the Leaves Fall
It's the crisp, fresh air that tickles your nose,
While chasing leaves when the gusty wind blows.
With flashlights in hand, are moms at bus stops;
Standing sentinel, like scarecrows over crops.
Many wonder which character to be;
This year, at months end, when candy is free?
Cheerleaders, band members and players too,
Work hard for football teams, like the pros do.
The season starts at county and state fairs,
Ending with Santa and long underwear.
Kids passing s'mores around backyard fires,
As tales are told of haunted bogs and mires.
Shops at the mall will be decking the halls;
As traffic backs up, parking's wall to wall.
With each passing year, the chill seems colder,
And longer, too, as I become older.
Never mind that now, because it's also,
Time to give blankets and clothes, so let's go!
Plenty of time to sit and sip cocoa,
When wrapping gifts that make us say, "oh,OH!
Next to spring this is my favorite time,
When families are near, weather's sublime.
It's the time of year to count our blessings;
For more than just turkey and the dressing.
This Too, Shall Pass
If I could, I would take an eraser and make all of the pain vanish.
Disappointments would be replaced with achievements and accolades.
Tears would evaporate into giggles of ecstasy.
Problems would become simple equations, easily solved and mastered.
Harsh words and tangled thoughts would smoothly flow as if it were a cool mountain stream.
Unfair criticisms would become mere boring metaphors.
Physical pain would dissipate, scattering so far, so small that not enough of it would exist to ever cause pain again.
Mental angst would become instead, a symphony of gentle chords played on the harp.
Emotional torment would quickly calm as if it were a soft breeze blowing past the daffodil, taking the seeds and dispersing them completely until only a naked stem remains.
Lovers would never quarrel, especially not over something as unromantic as money.
No, lovers that are as epic as Samson and Delilah would never resort to deceptive tricks.
Marc Anthony and Cleopatra would never be separated nor disgraced.
Romeo and Juliette would have been married, had children and grand children and Juliette would never think of taking poison or her life.
This is however reality and I don't have an eraser that can remove pain. All I can offer you is my ear and listen.
Anything else such as advice would never be what you need to hear.
The words you long to hear can not come from my mouth or my pen. The words you so desperately long to hear are the ones of earnest regret at ever having offended you.
Words that beg your forgiveness.
I can easily relate to your latest poem Wajor. It reflects my current situation perfectly. I know I should offer a critique or give some sort of constructive advice here, but really I feel that would ruin what this poem means to me. I especially am empathetic to the last three lines of the poem, they;re what drive this home for me.
Many times I wanted to write a spooky tale in the spirit of Halloween but I never could find the time until now. Today is 11/2/10 and I did my duty by voting which wasn't scary at all, surprisingly! For now I think I will write about the relief I feel for someone, very close to me in the real world and play with the focus so that it comes off sounding more virtual.
Here goes.
*The author reserves the right to write a work of fiction that may appear as a work of fact. The names and places are completely fictional and any similarities to reality is purely coincidental*
October Madness
chapter one
Wajor could feel the electrical power drain from her as she once more attempted to reboot her son's hard drive.
"Mom, these bugs are acting more like bots and won't leave me alone!", Cyntax screamed in agony.
He had been suffering from bugs, glitches and virus' daily for the past month. Wajor tried everything she could think of while they were placed on the system's maintenance waiting list. Nothing she tried gave lasting relief from the constant bombardment.
"I appreciate your kind words and thoughtful suggestions but this virus is causing me to think about pulling my plug!", Cyntax said to the diagnostic tech. The DT quietly suggested contacting the SM immediately to avert a potential crash and I hastily made the call.
The IT at the SM's office returned my call an hour later and assured me the Systems Analyst would review Cyntax' data and a full diagnostic would be run at the soonest possible time.
Wajor knew that the antivirus program needed upgrading and she called the ET just to double check that all upgrades were current. Now all that could be done was to sit and wait for the analyst's call.
Chapter two will be tomorrow evening...
It seems to me that no one has properly complimented your skill with words. I've yet to see one of your posts on the thread that have disappointed me. So keep at it or ELSE. =D
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