-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~ I'd like to say that it was an impulsive decision. I had known about the prototype for going on 3 years before I finally had enough reason, nerve, a good swift kick in the pants- whatever it finally took to pull it off. But once I had the cap along with all those wires, I couldn't very well leave the rest of it in the warehouse.
You know, one where you have to make a snap judgement and then just live with whatever happens after, good or bad. I may have been forced to drop out of college, but that didn't mean I was dumb.
It took a hard conversation with an old friend to knock some sense into me. If there had been anything in her hands at the time I would have likely had to duck. She wasn't terribly tall but was closer to six foot than five and a lean and healthy figure to go with it.
"That is a load of horse shit and you know it, Benji! It's not like you're doing that great with your degree in theater! Her long light brown hair reached well past her shoulders and she was particularly creative in how she styled it. And she had been right- although it took me a week to be able to admit it. Not after Maggie had knocked the cobwebs loose and goaded me into action.
The system was already primed with a series of what looked to be random problems to get started.
Instead, I decided to kill two birds with one stone and use it to memorize the scant few papers that the doctor in charge of the project had published before she left.
That being said, it is one of my FAVORITE stories so I highly suggest you read it- if you can find it.
" This late into the fight I was understandably a bit defensive, so I wasn't really what you'd call a good listener anymore. Every day was something different- often with some new styling thing she found on the internet. But during that week, each day as I had swept the floors I had walked past that machine. Sure- I could have hunkered down and really started saving.
Today it was in a double french braid going down the back. And the seed she had planted in my head started growing, pushing its way up and out of my subconscious and forcing me to act. I've always been a believer in the idea of working smart, rather than working hard. I could have enrolled in school again and started taking classes before all my credits from the first go around expired. I wasn't certain what this machine could do- but I knew something about the lab it had come from and I had a hunch it was going to be my ticket.
I could just hear one of my old professor's judgmental voice in the background as I worked. If you wore the cap full of wires while you were working you could see a blip on the screen that would jump around from place to place. "Maggie- I know we've been friends since we were kids... Not that you cared to ask what was going on in my life or anything when you finally call me after over a week of nothing.
The closer it was to the center of the radar screen the better your mind was learning the problem set. but do you think, maybe, you could stop calling me Benji? I'm not 8 anymore, and neither are you." "What the fuck, man? "Are you calling to apologize or just fight with me some more?
-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~-~=~ This is the first chapter in a story intended as a spiritual "sequel" to another piece by another author: Feedback, by Markov Beest.