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Money for Nothing and your Kicks for Free. Part 3 (standard:mystery, 554 words) [3/3] show all parts | |||
Author: jenne64 | Added: Jan 22 2001 | Views/Reads: 2976/0 | Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
As Anne tossed and turned that evening soemone else was busy working... | |||
Chapter 3 While Anne was tossing and turning in the early hours of the morning. Mark Davies was hunched over his keyboard. His eyes scrutinizing the screen with such intensity that they appeared to glow. A wry smile spread across his face. The indigo blue circles under his eyes wrinkled making them appear bigger than they actually were. His tongue ran full circle over his cracked lips, a sure sign that he had discovered what he sought. “Stupid bitches. Stupid fucking bitches the fucking lot of them, eh Merlin.” He muttered triumphantly to the small black and white cat that lay curled on the only other piece of furniture in the small room, a bed. The scruffy ball of fur shot him a disdainful glance at being disturbed. “Another sucker. Whoopee! Come to Daddy Baby.” A familiar sound filled the hollow room. The whoosh of a file being transferred between two PC’s. Mark’ eyes followed the little red line as it expanded across the screen, his expression that of an excited child on their birthday. He watched as the line faltered just as a car does when it approaches an amber light, the driver unsure whether the light will turn red or green. Mark willed the driver to keep going. Instead it stopped at red. Mark slammed his fist down onto the desk, releasing a small cloud of dust that caused him to cough. “Shit. That wasn’t very clever, now was it?” He sat back and pondered the problem for a second, “Ok then let’s try this one.” Marks hands deftly moved across the keyboard until finally he hit the send button with all the flourish of a concert pianist. The truth was the PC was his instrument, a finely tuned one, one that he played with frightening accuracy. Mark understood every pitch, every chord the machine could produce. He lived to play his instrument. The Internet was no longer just a toy to him, now it was a habit. He was an Internet junkie in the true sense of the word. By day he was just Mark Davies, a misfit, the original Mr Nobody, but at night when he returned home from work and switched on his lifeline, he became someone. In the virtual world he inhabited every evening, his best friend was Bill Gates, without whom none of his achievements to date would have been possible. On the Internet he could be anyone he wished. Some evenings he would be a police officer, other evenings a construction worker, and sometimes he was both but he was never Mr Nobody. People sat and listened when he talked through the keyboard, unlike in real life, where no one paid him any heed. “Come on baby, take the bait. You know you want to see it.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair, watching the screen, willing the transfer to succeed. Again the red line expanded. This time it went straight from red to green and didn’t falter once. He imagined the face of it’s recipient as she opened the picture that she had just received. He sat and waited for the message that he knew would follow: Oh, what a beautiful cat. He’s so sweet. Etc, etc. “God women are so fucking predictable, eh Merlin.” He commented before beginning his work in earnest... Tweet
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