Fridays are my “anything goes” days. Fridays are the days I blog about whatever tickles my fancy. The subject will vary. Wildly. It could me, or it could be you. It could be a book I’ve read, a movie I’ve seen, my garden, artwork, the kids that soaked my garbage can (sitting out at the curb patiently awaiting the arrival of the sanitation truck) with soda pop…
Today it’s a story. A flash of fiction.
I hope you enjoy. 🙂
Matt felt like a gopher. On all sides stood towering mountains of projects that needed to be accomplished. Foothills of smaller necessities stretched out beyond those and disappeared in the distance. The desk — There was a desk holding up today’s junk, wasn’t’ there? — sprouted a forest of bills, papers, notes, computer disks, forms, and other varieties of demon.
“I lost the disk,” said an unhappy voice from behind him.
“What disk, Cy?” Sigh…
“The one with all your, ah … records. The one you gave me to copy and, um, transfer.”
Matt’s head lifted, face bathed in the glow of his computer monitor. One of the mountains off to the left grew about six months taller and started to spew smoke. “The Morris one?” A nod was his only answer. “How did you lose it?” he whispered, feeling the Shadow of Doom creep over him. It was cast by the mountain’s sudden new height, he was sure.
“It, uh, crashed.”
Nod. “Totally.” Cy looked at him sympathetically. “Seriously, man, it made my ‘puter gag. Big-time. Three disk recovery programs choked on it. I couldn’t even reformat the sucker.”
Matt stared into the bleak landscape of his future and didn’t say a word.
“You do have the hard copies, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Small blessing…
“Well, then!” Cy smiled with false cheer. “Not all is lost!”
“No, I’m sure there’s more.” More gloom and despair, that is.
On his way out the door and back to his own mountainous country, Cy paused with his hand on the doorframe. “Oh, hey. Your mother-in-law called. She’s seriously ticked off. What the freak did you do to her?”
Look! There it was already!! Matt smiled faintly. “That was the Family Vacation going up in flames.” Wildfire on the right!
Cy crooked a brow. “You really know how to pick ’em.”
“Gee, thanks. Anything else?”
He hedged. And fidgeted. “Only the, ah…”
Matt closed his eyes and sighed again. Wishing for boredom was a waste of energy. “Spit it out.”
Spitting that out was a good idea. Blech.
“RotoDude says we’re gonna have to dig the pipe up and replace it, sidewalk and all. If we’re lucky, we won’t have to pull up asphalt.”
Ware the earthquake dead ahead! Matt stabbed the space bar on his keyboard and brought his fading screen back to life. For a moment, he considered hopping onto the ether express, surfing over to his favorite chat room, and indulging in a few wild and unruly hours of role-playing. Sword swinging, magic-flinging and maybe a little out-and-out ‘moding would be fun about now…
“D’you have those pictures uploaded for Sally yet?”
The beckoning vistas of fantasy crumbled, leaving behind sad puffs of dust. He was trapped in reality, prisoner of a thankless, mundane world. “You know what, Cy?” Matt asked, reaching for the new 50-pack of CDs. Cool Colors. It was pathetic when one was reduced to getting their kicks by buying colored disks… “You make a really annoying conscience.”