Blue Screen

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Blue Screen by Cary Enoch Reinstein ©Copyright 1997-2009 by Cary Enoch Reinstein. All Rights Reserved. Email the author. mailto:[email protected] This story may not be reproduced in any form or distributed without the author's explicit written permission. Kirkland, Washington, 1997, Peach County, Georgia, 1998-2008. A burned out software developer becomes careless after working far too many hours. He finds himself with partial amnesia and totally disembodied after a bug in his code crashes his system. As he searches for a way back, he discovers that he can merge with the minds of the women he encounters in the corridors. Only one of them can help him debug his program and save him from the Blue Screen of Death. But there are so many fascinating women. Stay tuned. DISCLAIMER: This is a work of satirical fiction. All characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to anybody real or living or deceased is purely coincidental and unintentional ... yadda yadda ... This story is for your entertainment only. Nothing here even remotely suggests that any former employer of mine (03/87 - 02/98) or any of their fiercest competetitors may or may not hold any of the opinions expressed here. However, if they ever asked me, incredibly unlikely though that event would be, I'd be happy to tell them what to do. Well, that "just works" for me.

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

Do you see me? Do you see? Do you like me? Do you like me standing there? Do you notice? Do you know? Do you see me? Do you see me? Does anyone care? Unhappiness where's when I was young And we didn't give a damn 'Cause we were raised To see life as fun and take it if we can ... Understand what I've become It wasn't my design --The Cranberries

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

Virginia won't see me. Nobody sees me. Look at her walk down the hallway toward me as if I’m invisible. I need you, Virginia, to see me and tell me my name. I see you perfectly. Who would miss a look at you? This one’s not like the other women who work around in this building. She has style. Virginia. That's right, I remember now. That word is a name. Virginia. It’s her name. She's the Admin to our Group VP. Virginia has attitude. She steps out of Cosmo Magazine to grace our drab workplace with her presence. She makes sure that you know it too.

Bad news, seriously bad news. This is not a good sign. Virginia walked right past me. She didn't see me. Just like the rest of them. I better hurry and catch up with her, tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. Virginia, please, please look at me. Hey, Virginia! Say something. Feel a breeze. Hear a whisper. Anything.

I'm right behind her now. If I run any faster, I'll knock her over. Slow down, Oh wow, I'm not anywhere now but I'm still moving. Virginia is gone. But she still has a name, a label, and I have nothing. We are walking down the hall. We hear the clicks of our heels as we walk.

We hear? What do we hear? Who are we? Time for another deathly boring meeting. Why can't the boys take their own stupid notes? Can't they do anything on their own? We have time for a quick stop in the powder room. No hairs out of place.

Hairs, yeah, right. We have a buzz cut. Oh, Virginia if only you could see what’s inside of you.

Our face just the way we want it. Our blouse neat. Just one button open. We don't want to be provocative in that meeting. Most of the boys in the

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

room will be software developers. Wonder if developers can be stimulated? Sorta doubt it.

We can, babe, we can, but who has the time? Later, when we're in Hank's office, we'll open two more buttons. We love to flirt with him. Does that man ever go home? We know he has a wife, more like a brood mare really. Drops a new brat about once a year. Maybe that's why he's so taken by us. Besides, he never sees the poor little rats. Well, he's a honey anyway and he's really so sweet to us.

I see Virginia in the mirror on the Ladies' Room wall. Where did I go? It can't be possible but I think I'm looking through her eyes. Am I in her head? Does she know that I'm in there with her? How did I do that? I didn't sense a transition or feel any sensations. There should have been special effects. I like those. Maybe cosmic whirlpools. I'd have settled for cheap game graphics but there was nothing at all. Yet now I hear Virginia's thoughts intermingled with mine. The words must be Virginia’s thoughts cuz I don’t think like that. I wonder. Raise your right arm, Virginia. She did it! She raised it. This is cool. She doesn't know. Virginia, touch your left breast. Yes, very nice. This is too cool. Now I want you to touch your... No, maybe later. It's enough to know that I can do it. This is so easy. Imagine that. I stepped into another body, a woman's body. I wonder if I'll stay in it. I don't think that I ever stay anywhere. I just float through the hallways like vaporware. Maybe I can finally get out of this building while I'm in her body and then break free. I can't remember how long I've been here.

A few memory fragments drift back to me but they dissipate too quickly. I can get my mind around a little more data if Virginia's mind quiets down for a minute. She's like a newborn who's ever so delighted with its reflection. Look at her check herself out. Look at us doing it. Would you just look at us checking ourselves out.

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

I didn't have a day off in the last three months. I remember that. I remember it because Virginia knows it. Nobody on our team took time off. We worked at least 16 hours a day. It's strange but I don't feel tired now. I don't feel anything. I touch the body around me but I don’t feel it. Not her clothing, not her breath, not her gaudy jewelry. Nothing.

Virginia is leaving now. I guess that she's admired herself adequately. When her mind gets busy, she sweeps me along with her thoughts. We're walking down the hall to the meeting room. We find a seat where everyone who enters the room sees us first. We cross our legs and put our day-timer on our lap. With the short skirt we're wearing, we don't want to look too hot. Nevertheless, just enough to get some gratifying attention. Like the commercial says, we're worth it, baby.

This is so weird. I'm not Virginia but I share her consciousness. I hear her thoughts. I may as well be in a sexy body as any, I suppose. I don't know what happened to my own body. I don’t remember seeing or feeling it for a long time.

Yes, I do remember something. I think I'm a software developer. Right. That's it. I was writing JavaPath code for the next iPath Browser update. Hey, this is iPath, the browser at the end of the line. It kills off the need for anything else: office suites, graphics, databases, everything. Nobody will need them anymore. I mean we are talking big here. I ran the routines I wrote for creating Web pages. Yeah, I was the lead guy on the Wizard code. I remember that. Users will answer little questions about their stuff and then the Wiz will hand them perfectly finished pages. They’ll love it. Who needed Windows? Windows were for looking in and out. We gave the world iPaths. iPaths were meant to be followed and it was followers that we wanted more than anything. The old behemoths were gone. The old companies that made them were gone, no Windows, no Offices, no cute names for mere little green fruits.

My system crashed. I think that it happened after my code deleted the

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

tag. Wow, I thought I fixed that bug. The tag, man. How dumb! Everything disappeared. I disappeared. Hang on to that memory. Fix the code. Get my body back. I have to remember those three things. Memory. Code. Body. Memory. Code. Code. iPathMarkup code. Remember.

I can't get out of this building. I tried it. I walked to the door a few minutes ago and hit an invisible barrier. I just bounced off it. What was that? Maybe I mistyped something. My exit code might have a bug. Maybe I purged the exit point. I have to remember but I don't think Virginia's mind can hold on to it. She's a honey but not overly bright. She doesn't know anything about software.

This is so weird. I hear her thoughts. I feel her body but I'm not a part of her. I feel like I became trapped inside her energy web. It's a great place to be but I don't belong here. I want to be back in the body I had before the crash. I think I had a body once. What did it look like? I bet it sure didn’t look like this one. I can't feel anything solid unless Virginia touches it. Touch your leg, Virginia. Good girl. Very nice. Now hike your skirt up a little. That's it. I like this. Kind of Outer Limits like. We control Virginia.

What happened to me when my system crashed? Where did I go? There was a Blue Screen message I never saw before. Something about a Fatal Error. I never had a chance to debug it.

0x00000006,0x%06X,0x00000006,0xC00000000. That looks like a name; maybe it’s my name. Blue Screen? Crash? Who was in a crash? Something fatal? An error? What? What? Too weird! What geek-speak is that? Where on earth did those thoughts come from? I have to start eating more than a 300-calorie salad and non-fat cottage cheese for lunch. These engineers. They are just so immature. Most of them need to take a bath once in awhile. For heaven's sake, they think a tee shirt is formal wear if it doesn't have a cartoon on it. When one of them tries to come on to me, I'm thinking, "Oh

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

gag me! Like no way!" Well, they're all smart and everything and they make tons of money but just not my type, ya know.

Our boss, Hank, now he's my type. It's kewl to keep him happy. We just lock his office door so we can provide a little stress relief for him. Poor baby. He deserves to have someone be nice to him. There's so much pressure on him. He's such a sweetie. Well, we don't even want to think about those geeky programmer guys. Why did it cross our mind at all?

f95c9000 31ec6c99 - Null.SYS. What? What? I'm losing contact. I can feel it. Gin, dear, where do you ever get such thoughts? Imagine having something like that in my head. Icky! I'll start talking like one of them soon. Wouldn't that be something? NO _MORE _STACK

_LOCATIONS I'd talk in stupid little words and three-letter acronyms. The idiots even have initials for that: TLA. Won't happen though. I'll make myself think about something else. That's it, Gin, hon, anything else. Wear the cute little GENUINE INTEL red dress to work tomorrow. I wonder what shoes go with that. I'll fix the buttons on it tonight.

I am so glad I don't work the hours that the geeks do. Hank is so good to me. He doesn't demand long hours from me, just from the developers. That's the way, Gin, no more geeky thoughts. You just get that old junk right out of your little head. Much better, Gin. See what a disciplined mind you have. EXCEPTION _NOT _HANDLED BAD _POOL

I am without a body again. I didn't expect it. I was dumped. Virginia's memory dumped me. How’s that for imitating life? Now I'm walking around the meeting room hoping that someone can see me but nobody does. Nobody sees me. It's a good thing that I'm not inside of Virginia any more. I don't want to be around when she locks the door and does her stress relief thing on her boss. I don't think I could handle being close

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

to that. Don't want to know what it is either. Her boss has to be the biggest, hairiest, ugliest 60’s retro Veep in corporate America. Geez, Virginia, why not go to Wrestlemania for kicks? So now what? I tried to get into the body of a developer but I couldn't do it. If the company wasn't so sexist and hired more women developers, I might be on my way out of this. Strange, I never cared about sexism before. It doesn't affect me. Like, who even cares about that but girls? Where does that thought come from? Why do I only bond with women? There has to be a clue in that.

Hey check this out, Mona is in the meeting. I'll sit on her lap and bond with her. No, it doesn't work. I can't get in. Maybe it only works when she walks down the hall. I fell into Virginia's body that way. That means something, right? They have to be moving, yes, that's it. The code has to be running and I have to enter it. Strange. When Virginia's mind booted me out, I was close to an answer. I can't remember what it was now. Wait for the end of the meeting. It might come back to me.

Mona is a developer. She has such a bright, pretty face. She's tall and skinny with unnaturally pale skin. I can't take my eyes off her. Even in the grungy outfits that she likes to wear, she's almost a ten. Sheesh, Mona, an open flannel shirt that's way too large on you, black sports bra, badly shredded jeans, and black hiking boots. Dark tattoos snake around your arms and ankles. What must Virginia think of you? I guess your outfit marks you as a native of this town, Mona. I like that. You don't meet too many natives here anymore. Your pink hair coloring is a little distracting but I can live with that. It's different. I value that. Too bad you prefer women. Everybody knows how you changed. Too bad for me, I mean. Hey, it's fine. I'd love to go out with you anyway. If I get my body back. I'd love to take you out. If I get time off. Just friends, okay. No disrespect intended, Mona. I like girls too. It's cool. You can't complain about harassment but you'll do it anyway.

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

Everybody knows that too. Come on, boring, stupid meeting; just be over already. Be over. Come on. Come on. That was weird. started to think like Virginia. Forget it. I have to merge with Mona and try to free myself.

Okay, there we go. Mona is standing up now. Follow her.

Hurry now, catch up with her. Mona! No, she can't hear me. I can't get used to that. Nobody can hear me. I'll just tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. It might work. Hey, Mona! What happened to me? I was trying to catch up to Mona. Now I don't seem to be anywhere at all. Okay, I feel like I'm still moving. Where am I going? I thought for a minute that I didn't have a body. Imagine that. Would it be weird to not have a body? I glance down at my feet as I walk. Hiking boots, torn up old jeans. This is not me. Whoa, there's my reflection. Pink hair! I look a lot like that developer, Mona. I can't remember where I was a few minutes ago or why I'm in the hallway. How can I be in a girl's body? Mona, slow down. That's it. I must really be Mona. I'm making her slow her pace a little. Where is she going? I can hear her thoughts but they're muffled. Senseless. Is my name Mona? Say, dumb question! It must be. I'm Mona.

ADDRESS

DWORD DUMP There's our office just ahead. We're

going into it, closing the door, putting our head down, and cussing the whole freaking world. Maybe we'll cry. We're so tired. We can’t take one more meeting.

Posters of Melissa Etheridge and k. d. lang on the walls. Lots of hanging plants and flowers. Great big Teddy Bear on our guest chair. Look, we put a sign on it. “Call Me GRRRL." A six-pack of Jolt Cola on the floor. This is Mona's office. Hey, no question about that. Check this out. I have a ring in my navel.

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

We are definitely Mona. We know who we are now.

She doesn't seem like she's all Mona herself. She floats in and out of her own mind. Our mind.

I remember things. Something went wrong and crashed my system. Some bug in my code. That's it. I have to reboot the system and debug the code. I can't think clearly. Oh, Mona, bad girl! You're doing drugs, aren't you? No wonder your mind is full of garbage. Damn. How do I get out of your head? No, Mona, don't snort that! I can't believe you're putting that crap into your body. Mona, hey, I know this place is hell on you but don't let it crush you, okay? I mean a lot of us do speed and coke but not you, please. I'm sure that I never did it. Please. Mona, honey, it's been fun but I have to leave. Too bad I don't really know how to do that. There's a knock on our door. We can hardly hear it. Wake up, kid. Stash the spoon in the desk real fast. Then tell whomever to come in.

Say, there's Hell on Wheels. I know her. I wonder if she knows that we call her that. Holy Helen. We worked on the same project a few months ago. She's a tech writer. I remember that. That's good. I might remember some more. Code. Body. What? Helen is a little, how do I say this, super straight. She's a born again babe. Ms. Moral Majority. I wonder what she thinks of you, Mona. She might have been a nice girl once but now you really have to watch what you say around her. She joined the sensible shoes set. Helen thinks her crap doesn’t stink any more. Everything offends her. Helen's not your type. I bet she thinks you're Sin with jets strapped on. Just a joke, okay? Hey, you can't hear me anyway. You're in la-la land. Right, and I'm stuck in your wild little head. Just great.

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

Helen closed the door. She's just giving you a huge grin and not saying anything. She's walking around to this side of the desk. Helen is giving you a long, passionate smooch on the lips. You're caressing her cheek and her hair. You're touching her chest and, well, touching. That feels so warm and good. We missed you so much, Hel, sweetheart, dear, sweet Hel.

Mona, the mist in your mind blew away. I can hear your thoughts now. Helen is going to leave her husband and kids to live with you. I don't believe it. Your head is clearing fast now, Mona. I'm losing my identity. I'm forgetting. We love her. We are the woman who she never had the guts to be. She feels so happy and free with us. A flutter of sweet butterfly kisses. We love you, Hel honey... Hel is such a dear. We need each other. She's like an anchor to reality, you know. She'll help us get off the stuff. She says she has a way... Silky skin next to mine. Yummy, fragrant... Hel, sweetheart, you understand us, we have to work so damn hard around here to be noticed 'cause the guys have all the power. So much pressure. We're so tired of this crap, but the money, the stock options, we can't leave. Work so hard. We can't leave. Nobody can leave. Nobody ever wants to leave any more. Why on earth would people turn their backs on all that money?

Mona knows what the drill is like. I wonder if that's it. Is it possible that we can never leave? If this company hires you as a developer, that's it; you're stuck here for good. Hey, too spooky. Other people leave the building sometimes. Virginia does it. Why can't I? Doesn't anyone here have a life? Who has time? We spend all our time working. I don't remember the last time I went home. I don't remember if I have a home. I don't know if I had a body or I just borrowed bodies.

What was that? I see Helen. She's a writer, isn't she? This is Mona's

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

office. How did I get in here? This is so weird. It's like I'm looking at everything through Mona's eyes. Weird. I just smooched with Helen Wheels, the born again babe. I may be in love with her. I may call her by a private pet name, Hel. We think our name is really Mona. Yeah, Mona. The guys call you Mona Latte. Get it? ‘cause she moans, baby, she moans.

I remember something. My code crashed the system. I worked so many hours. Forgot to initialize my variables and crashed hard. I lost something. I lost my body. That's it. I remember a little. Now I float in and out of women's bodies. I float down the hallways. I pass through their minds like vapors through a web. Remember web—it sounds important. Try try try to remember.

Mona can help me. She's a developer. She can help me debug my code. I have to reach her. Mona, are you in here with me somewhere? This is… No, forget that, I don't remember my name. I forgot to initialize my variables PANIC _STACK _SWITCH my name is in system memory and I can't find it without a debugger. NO _MORE _STACK

_LOCATIONS I hope nobody turns off my system. All my memories are in there. They stay there as long as the system has power. Mona, can you hear me? Hello. Please hear me. Mona is totally into Hel. Hellfire. Helen Wheels, the preacher lady. Mona’s head is not full of caffeine, man. It’s full of something though. Hard drugs. I remember. She can't help me. I wish I could stay in her body. We are talking about a great body here. I mean, not just a body, like also fun, smart, a little different. Forget it. There's no time for girlfriends when you work so many hours. The money is great, the stock options, I can't quit. Can't lose my options. Work so hard. Can't leave. Can't lose our options. Why would anybody lose her options?

Now I remember a little more. Mona, listen babe, okay? I'm on the team that codes the end-of-the-line Browser. The one that finally sinks

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

everything else and makes life easy. We call our project the Cultural Revolution, CultPath, Cult for short. Just on the inside though. Good working name. Better than the last project name, Jolt Plus. Much better. Users won't even need hard disks any more, Mona. Hey, nobody will dare sell them disks after we release Cultural Revolution. We'll tell the PC makers that we won't certify their machines if they put disks in them. What can they say? We control practically everything. We'll keep everybody's data right here. People will accept it. They accept everything we do. Too cool! Can you hear me, Mona? Hello?

Forget it. The kid is preoccupied. Love. Who has time for it? I need to get out of this body and find someone to help me. I hear a knock on the door. We're snapping to attention and Helen is straightening herself up. Hey Helen; put on your Republican sourpuss face now. No prob, Ms. Wheels, I'll keep your little secret. I can't speak to anyone.

"Come in." "Oh hi, Hannah." We're smiling at Hannah. Helen is smiling at Hannah. Helen is making an ultra straight face. Good job, Helen. Your little secret is safe with me. "Hi, all! Say, are you guys having a meeting?" Hannah asked.

Helen answered "Oh, no, we're just chatting about the Cultural Revolution. We already use the Beta in my group. I made everyone install it." Cult users won't need manuals, just half a dozen little pictures. Isn't that sweet?" "Well, at least it won't put us artists and designers out of business like it will you writers!" Hannah said.

"Hannah, sweetie," Helen answered, "Over the last few versions, we enriched the Internet Path experience ever so much. iPath! That says it all! Ordinary people can't create their own little pages any more. They

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

can't even do their own pathetic graphics now. iPathetic. Get it? Every time people catch up and learn how to do anything, we have to enrich it more. We know that's what they really want. It's wonderful, dear. We want to make it better and better for our users. We add a few layers, a few functions, a newer standard. We give them iPathMarkup now. The old stuff is luddite, hon. So we must add to the language 'cuz everyone demands features. Features, features. More features all the time. Persuading everyone to want more features is just good marketing, dear. If we don't keep adding features, our options will be worth less. The competition will catch up to us."

"We don't have any competition," Hannah said. "I know, dear. This is just hypothetical. The Cult, the iPath as we will call it, will do everything for people. Literally everything. I mean it must do it all. Marketing says that users don't like to do anything anyway. I'm going to transfer to Marketing. All the writers who aren't needed any more go there."

"You sound absolutely perfect for Marketing, Helen. You really do. What about going into product support? Do any of the writers go there?"

"Ooh, that's a bad idea. Weren't you at the company meeting? Remember seeing the Twins on floor-to-ceiling video tell us that customers won't need any support after Version 9.0 ships. iPath will be the easiest thing that ever happened to them. Product Support will shut down. It's just Dial-a-Dweeb phone menus and pre-recorded tapes now anyway.

“Like the ads say, Hannah, ‘We want to WIN today!’"

"Guys, I'm wondering, like what if a user doesn't like the templates and clip-art that we give them? Can't they just add their own little personal piccies?"

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

"Hannah, you are too sweet and innocent!" Mona squealed. "How could they not love it? I mean like who else is there to get anything from but us? That's the price of progress, Hannah, hon. Besides, if you're not into the company vision, why work here? Remember it? 'Information under your skin.' We all believe in the vision. You are into it, aren't you? Hello! If there's any hesitation, your manager will notice it and you won't get more options. That would be very very bad."

"Umm, I suppose. Anyway, you three finish your meeting and I'll come back around later, 'kay?" "Three?" Mona asked.

"What three? Who else is here?" asked Helen.

"Mona! Helen! Are you guys teasing me? There are three auras in here!"

Hannah senses me! She knows. Maybe I should leave Mona's body and get into Hannah. Try to talk to her. I can get back to Mona later. I have to get back to her later. Mona is the Debugger guru. She can read all the symbols in the code. I need her.

"Hannah," said Helen, "There's no such thing as an aura. If the Lord created auras, he would have told us all about them." Oh, Poor Hel. She's embarrassing us but we won't say anything. We love her too much. She's entitled to her dip ideas. Hannah is a seriously weird grrl. She hears voices. She plays with crystals. She does Tarot. Hannah does all kinds of funky things. You know, ding-a-ling spells and stuff. She wants to summon the ancients or something along those lines. She told us that she's in some heavy therapy work to get in touch with her past lives. Sure, right, sweetie. Who has a life, let alone a past one?

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

Three people. Yeah, like a ghost, right. Or another disembodied programmer caught in a Blue Screen. Sure. Like we believe that. Where did that thought come from? We need a damn break. Hmm, or a Latte. Maybe we need something a helluva lot stronger than coffee.

Mona knows too! Blue Screen. I remember a little now. My code caused a memory leak and a system fault. The screen displayed the Blue Screen of Death, the good old BSOD. We won't ever be rid of that little buddy. Hey, the System does that when it goes down. Maybe I died? Yeah, right. My memories are still in that machine. I have to get back to it before someone turns it off. I went to the lab earlier but there were only guys in there. Nobody could see me. I couldn't bond with anyone. So I started wandering the halls and found Virginia. I remember now. I was inside Virginia's vapid little head.

Hannah looked a little indignant and began to lecture as if she were talking to a third grade class. "Look, Goddess has put some of Herself into everything. That's what an aura is. It's Goddess. It's like the life force of everything, okay. Just because you can't see Her doesn't mean She isn't there. You have to feel Her. You have to be open to Her. Look, you've never seen the Twins in person, have you? They’re just on video, right? The Twins say that They need to stay uncontaminated so They can think and foresee everything. Whatever, The Twins work here, They founded the company, and They are here somewhere, right? So just because you haven't seen Them doesn't mean that They aren’t real. So you believe in Them and you work for Their vision. You do what They want you to do. You two get my analogy here?" Wow, Hannah, welcome to Sesame freakin’ Street.

Mona spoke. "Hannah hon, we all know that the Twins are real! Sheesh, somebody had to start this place up from scratch, didn't They? It didn't just come out of nothingness. So, that proves it. Anyway, there are pictures of Them everywhere. At least we can tell them apart what with

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

one always in a suit and the other always in a turtleneck. Otherwise, without the glasses you could never tell them apart. Anywhere you look, you see a picture of Them. Sheesh, there are pictures of the Twins in the Ladies' Room. You don't get any more real than that. Never mind that, I'll humor you for a sec. I want to know something. Aside from Hel and me, whose aura do you see?"

"There's some geeky guy in here, Mona. I see a third aura. I'm telling you that someone else is in here. I sense that he is standing right behind you. It's like, it's like he's almost inside of you or something." Hannah is staring at us. It's funny, but she's one of the rare normal looking girls in the building. She's wearing a pink tee shirt and bib overalls, running shoes, and a necklace made of big bright crystals. Around this place, that's as normal as Disney is. Hannah never wears any makeup except for heavy black eye-liner. Her face is as radiant as an antique cameo. A cameo seen in the twilight. I see her as Botticelli's Athena with dark red hair. Athena with earthy coffee and cream brown skin and a halo of curls, emerge from your seashell. Walk across the waves, hon. Radiant and exultant, Athena, approach me. We had a few wild dreams about you, Hannah. None that Hel would ever suspect, sweetie.

Whoa, Mona, I had some too. I remember things. Hannah's a hotter topic in geek email than you could ever be. I tried to get a date with her once but I didn't score. She said that she had a boyfriend. Military type, I think. She called him a warrior. Cute. Besides, I couldn't take any time off anyway. Nobody takes time off. We can't leave the Cultural Revolution.

Does anyone leave? can danny or janey, larry or mary, ramin or shaheen, robbie or bobbie leave?

little genius danny can’t leave cuz he’s just outta caltech for three years

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

and he’s already making payments on a testarossa

and big janey can’t leave cuz she bought a lotta acreage and a stable of race horses and larry can’t leave cuz he’s got a boat, a beamer, and a humvee to pay for

and sweet mary can’t leave cuz her husband hasn’t worked in years and his street pharmacists cost so much and anyway he’s HIV-pos now

and ramin can’t leave cuz the last time he left, he went back home for three days and bought himself a costly little servant and she’s preggers again

and shaheen can’t leave cuz her stern father will force her to return home and that means forced marriage and living behind the veil again

and robbie can’t leave cuz he bought a hockey team and bobbie can’t leave cuz the last time she left to drop another kid she got passed over for promotion but she can pay for two or three nannies now

not danny not janey, not larry not mary, not ramin not shaheen, not robbie not bobbie leave here now and i can’t leave cuz i don’t have a tag and maybe a big ugly bug bit my sorry butt

and you don’t ever wanna see your bug logged in bugnet.com cuz your next review will suck and they’ll cut off your bonus and your options So no-no nobody leaves the Cultural Revolution baby. Not now, maybe

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

not ever.

We can't leave Cultural Revolution. Not Cult, not the iPath. No. No. We don't think about leaving. Email is as close as we get to anyone outside of Cult. Yeah, Cult, iPath, same thing. Jargon don’t mean a thang! Think of the irony. I couldn't score with Hannah but in a minute, I'll be in her head. Should I leave Mona? She'd offer to help me if only she could see me like Hannah does. Mona has a heart. This place will crush her. She was an innocent sweetie from Alabama when she came here but look at her now. Mona Latte is prime cut for Capitol Hill dykes.

It's a risk but I have to take a chance on Hannah. Time to wait out in the hallway for her.

"It's gone. No aura!" Hannah said in a very matter-of-fact way.

Helen snapped at her. "It, whatever that means, was never here, dear."

Hannah gave her a penetrating but hurt look and walked out of Mona's office without saying another word. Walk on down the hall, Hannah. We need to talk. There you go. I'm walking right behind you. Hey, Hannah! Imagine that fungus-mentalist bitch preaching at us like that. She thinks that everyone is stupid but her. Yeah, and we're all sinners except for her and she poops roses. Well, there are auras and we do see them so what does she know anyway? She thinks we don't know what she and Mona do in that office. We don't care but we do know. We read their auras! Hey, Hannah, can you hear me? I shout in her head.

My Spirit Guide is back! Oh wow! This is so kewl! I missed you so much. I will be your channel. I am Hannah. H-a-n-n-a-h. Hah-NAH. I am in the 21st century in a place called America. Uh-meh-ree-kuh. Come forward, oh Thou Mighty Warrior Wizard.

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

Okay, Hannah is nuts. What am I going to tell her? Hannah, I'm a software development engineer. I'm in your crazy head because my system crashed with the Blue Screen of Death. Ya see, Hannah, I lost my own body somewhere so I'm just hitching a ride in yours now. Help me, babe, because you just might see me. Sure, that's believable. Yeah, right. She may be loony toons but she's not going to buy that story. Amenemope, you silly! You don't have to pretend to be somebody from my time. Hannah understands you. She can accept you as you really are. She's here calling to you across the ages. Come to her. Oh, please come to her. She is so alone. She has cleansed her body and soul to be worthy of channeling Thy Spirit, oh Mighty and Magical Warrior.

Okay, Hannah is worse than nuts. She is not as bright as she looks. I can see the reasons for it now that I'm in her body. She doesn't get a balanced diet. She refuses to eat anything but totally organic vegetable products. That is too limited. Well, there was that time in the cafeteria but that doesn’t count. We all get stressed when a product’s gotta ship. Your diet isn't good for you, babe. It makes you a little shaky. Take a fistful of Vitamin B complex. Also, you need to get some fresh air. You need to get out, period. You work 16 hours a day, seven days a week like everyone else. Get with your boyfriend, Hannah. You haven't had sex in a… whoa! that is a long time, since you were a little girl. Oh, I'm really sorry, Hannah. I didn't mean to step on your traumas. Please, no tears, babe. That's a good girl. We’re too busy for traumas. Oh Amenemope, I'm crying because I'm so happy now. I hear Thy wisdom but I do not understand it. Could you like run that by me one more time? I need you. I am ready to be Thy vessel. I am HahhhNAHHH in Uh-meh-ree-kUH. I am in your future. I mean I am in Thy future. H-A-N-N-A-H in A-M-E-R-I-C-A. There. Can you say that?

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

I'm not going to get anywhere, am I? At least Mona was on the same planet that I am on. Remember Virginia. Umm, if I had time, I'd like to hang around her. Inside, outside, who cares? Virginia is a babe. Imagine a corporate Veep getting off with her ministrations. The guy is married too. Come to think of it, so is Virginia. Oh Amenemope, just don't you be a big old jerk like last time. You made me shout at you right in the cafeteria. That was just too embarrassing. Why in Goddess' name, did you command me to eat that slice of cheesecake? And with chocolate frozen yogurt on the side! How could you! Those are dairy products! They come from animals! For Goddess’ sake, didn't you people know anything back in the Bronze Age? I'm really sorry I yelled at you and threw fruit salad at you. Umm, I hope the stains came out of your robe. They did, didn't they? Really sorry.

Amen, sweetie, I'm going outside on the patio. I need a little fresh air. You just be a good little 3,000-year-old Warrior Wizard and tag right along. We need to talk.

Hannah opened the door on to the patio and walked out. When she did, I wanted to stay inside of her but I slammed right into an invisible barrier. It would have knocked the wind out of me, I mean if I had any wind. I could not pass through the door to go outside the building. I was without a body again. I think Hannah realizes that I'm not aboard. She is screaming and pounding her fists against the building. I can't watch this. Sorry babe, I forgot about the barrier. Be cool, Hannah. I don't mean to be unsympathetic or something but hey, I have to get over to the Lab. Stay cool.

The cafeteria is close to the Lab. Maybe there will be a girl in there and I can get into her head. I remember a few things. I know more now about what happened to me. Poor Hannah. I can't get the sound of her screaming out of my head. I'm surprised that more of us don't start screaming like that with all the hours that we work. We live on candy,

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

soda, Thai take-out food, and greasy pizza. Maybe a lot of us do end up screaming and they just take us away quietly and wipe out all traces of us? Hah, I bet they'd keep our brains on Smart Cards and dump the rest of us in a millisecond if They had the technology. Hey, Twins, want to give a speech and do a big demo? Just cram the developer in your laptops and take him along. He'll fit nicely.

I was on the Cultural Revolution team, Cult. Nobody on the outside knows what that means. We just tell them it's iPath 9.0 and let them guess. Cult, iPath, uh, we like to call it Cult, sort of a humor thing, is the Browser that turns everything into a Network terminal. Thin is in, marketing says. Marketing says that computers have become too hard for the great unwashed. The masses are asses. We all think that around here. Soon, all anyone will have to do is install Version 9.0 while attached to the Internet Path, in other word, to us. We are the whole damn Internet Path now anyway. We are the iPath. Everyone trusts us. Our newest Registration Wizard uploads all their data to us and formats their disks. It's okay. Users won't need disks any more. They can just make frisbees out of them. Besides, what other applications are there now that we don't make? There you go. When users want their data, they just logon to us and they can use it. Uh, when they're not Blue Screened, of course. We'll only charge them a pittance each month for storing all their stuff. We're performing a service. Easy for them. Easy for us. It's like, well, it's a win-win. I like that. I should be in Marketing. Win Win. I like it. I do.

That sound. It's poor Hannah crying and screaming in my head. Screaming.

This push has been even worse than the push to ship Orwell 1.1 last year. Orwell was a product that gave network management a meaning! MIS managers practically worshipped it. We shipped it only two years late, bugs and all. It didn't matter. The MIS guys salivated over the thought of it, even when it was vapor.

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

Look who’s talking! I'm vapor now.

We were about 12 months behind schedule on the Version 9.0 Browser and working 16/7. Most of us hadn't even left the building for weeks or months. We slept on cots. We all tried to stay awake as long as we could. Enough coffee, soda, and chocolate bars, and you feel that you can do anything. You just keep thinking about how your options are growing and you don't want to go anywhere. You work so hard and long. You can't leave. You won't leave. You won't leave your options behind. Your options are growing. Your options are glowing. Nobody gets out of here. It snows money around this place. If you're one of the very few developers with a family, that's okay too. Your wife will bring the kids for a quick visit on the weekend. Don't worry that your kids will grow up funny because Daddy never comes home. Your wife will take them to a doctor. He'll say that they have ADD and give them a prescription. They say that about everybody’s kids now. Mom will feel so much better. Your kids will grow up dying to work here just like you. They will never want to leave. Screaming in my head. More screaming.

My part of the project was to write the Wizard code to create Internet Path Web pages for users. We made Web pages so powerful that people can’t to create their own pages any more. So Marketing asked, "Why don't we do ALL the web pages for our users? We add a lot of own content that tells them how cool we are. Instead of their little crappy pictures of their kittens that nobody wants to see anyway, we give them clip-art avatars. Users will look great. They’ll want to kiss us for saving them all that work. There you go, win-win again. We even let them use our logo without charge It's a classy touch. Besides, if users remove our logo, their computers just lockup. You have to know who does all this good stuff for you."

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

You have to love the Marketing pukes. All the engineers call them that but they're brilliant guys who make our options worth more. Lab coming right up. We just breezed right on over to it. Get it? Everything's a joke. There aren't as many people in there as I expected. Hmm, no women in there. I expected that. Why would there be any women developers? We don't hire them. Mona's a token and she knows it. Hannah is a token too but she doesn't know it. The poor kid is clueless.

There's my machine. It's still powered up and my Blue Screen is on the display. Good. I need somebody to help me debug that. 80100000

336546bf - pathkrnl.exe 80010000 33247f88 hell.dll. Who can really read any of that? I probably wrote it but I can’t read it myself. I wish I had stayed inside of Mona's head and taken her down here. I wonder why I can only bond myself to women. It must have something to do with the bug. Funny, I think I hear somebody screaming again but it's not Hannah. Weird. Nobody can see me. I can't get used to that. I want my own body back. I'm just living vaporware now.

Look at that. There must be a dozen machines with Blue Screens and there aren't any guys at those machines either. You never see guys leave their machines. It’s weird. I wonder where they would even go.

Hey, there's Linda standing in the hallway. She's not a developer. I think she's a tester. I'll get her to help me. Walk somewhere, Linda, please. You have to be walking, running your own code. Move, Linda! That's it, girl, just start walking. Okay. I'm catching up. Hey! I can't find an entry point. Funny, I think someone is already in there with you. No way. It's not possible.

You don't think there are a dozen other developers like me walking around the building, do you? It can't be. I'm going back upstairs to

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

Mona's office. That's the ticket. I should have stayed in her body. There's her office but nobody is in it. Wait, I see Mona and Helen coming down the hall holding a couple of lattes. Okay, Mona girl, I'm right behind you. I can't merge. I don't get it. She feels like her head is occupied just like Linda's head might have been. I'll get back into Hel so I can stay close. Mona is important to me. I need her to recover my memories and maybe my body. She would know how. Smart kid; she knows how to use a debugger. Okay, I'm right behind Helen now. The two of them are almost at Mona's office. Helen, slow down. Mona is so beautiful. She changed our life. Since we came to know her, we've had excitement and meaning. We feel like somebody again. How could we help falling in love with her?

Hey, I'm hearing Wheels’ private thoughts. I don't mean to eavesdrop. Sorry, Wheels, I can't help it. Hannah is just another new age freako witch. Way too many sinners like her around here.

I didn't say that. Helen Wheels said that. Why does Hannah say Goddess? It makes me feel queasy. If she found the Lord, she would quit that nonsense. The Lord understands that we need to be with Mona. He loves us. We accepted the Lord and he cleansed us in blood. He gave us the power to do anything. He forgives us for everything if we believe in him with all our heart. We know those nasty things our preacher says have nothing to do with women who really need each other. This is different. Anybody can see that. They just mean people who lived thousands of years ago. He isn't saying those cruel things about women like us. He's talking about men who sin. He knows that our bastard husband beats us. He won't tell Billy to stop. He won't. He told me so. He told me the Old Testament says our husband is

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

supposed to discipline us. Well, he can stick it. We're getting away from Billy before he kills us. Or we kill him first. The Lord loves him. Right. Sure. Someone really loves us now too. We're not the sinners. We're not them. We're not like them at all. Hannah would be so happy if she would accept the Lord. We keep trying to witness to her. We want to save her. We want to save them all. Can't she see that we make good sense? Goddess, indeed. That is nonsense. We're not going to Hell like that crazy witch. We're going to be saved. We love you so much, Mona. We will take you to the Lord. You're so tender to us. We want you so much, honey. You're saving us. We will save you too.

Okay, that's it. I need to get out of this body before I puke. Mona, you are in for one big pile of trouble from this one. You deserve better. There must be someone to merge with besides Helen around here. I couldn't get back into Mona. There wasn't any room to squeeze in. Strange. There we go. I'm out. I know how to float in and out now.

Sorry, Wheels, that was a bit too twisted for me. More strangeness, I can still hear Hannah screaming. I think that's Hannah. Who else would scream around here? Guys don't scream unless their fenders get dented but that sounds like a guy. There's Larry, Mr. Macho's, office. He keeps a couple of dopey pictures of Phyllis Schafly and John Wayne on his door. Some ugly pinups there. Some people have no taste at all. I wonder what he's doing now. I wish I could communicate with him but he's not there. That's odd. He's always rooted to his desk. He has to be. He's too pickled to go anywhere. Uh oh, this is bad; there's a Blue Screen on Larry's monitor. He has stronger stuff than Jolt under his desk. I wonder. No, this is crazy. It's not possible. That wasn't Larry inside of Mona's head, was it? You know, I think it was Larry after all. That was Larry screaming. He was stuck inside of Mona's head. Now I recognize his voice. Wait till Mona and Hel kiss again, Larry. You’ll

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

never stop screaming after that.

Here comes Mary. Great, another girl, another chance to take a ride to nowhere. Mary's a writer like Helen. Maybe I can hitch a ride back to the Lab. Having trouble getting into her also.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing here? "

"I was here first, man."

"Who are you?" I asked. "I don't remember my name. I don't know. I was working on the Cult. My system crashed and Blue Screened on me. The next thing I knew I was floating around the halls. Then I found that I could merge with women's minds, sort of borrow their bodies too, make them do things."

"That's okay," I said, "Spare me the details. The same thing happened to me." "There's someone else inside of Mona. That means there are at least three of us. I know. I was just there."

"I was inside of Helen two minutes ago. Trust me, you do not want to be in there. How is any of this possible?" I asked.

"I don't know the actual JavaPath code but I do know that it's supposed to happen."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"I'm telling you. I'm a Project Manager. I know what's going on. The company doesn't like to give the developers all those stock options. The Twins wants it all for Themselves. They’re driven, man. They think They

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

need it. The Corp Info Services dweebs told Them they were salivating to write some JavaPath code to get our minds into the machines. That's the MIS mindset anyway. You know it. They don't need the rest of us. JavaPath runs in anything. ‘We want to WIN today.’ Get it?" "So how come we can only merge into women's heads? We’re guys, man. I don't understand that," I said.

"I wasn't in on that but it’s easy to figure out. I'm sure that it's because we geeks can't get together with women. Normal women won't go out with geeks like us. They can't stand us. The developers wrote some new API's and JavaPath classes to get themselves inside of women's heads. Then they tried it out on us first. That's how they think, man. You know it."

"I know it," I said. "That's how I think too. Code can do anything. Anything. Sorry. But it's true. So, what do we do now? Can we turn this around?"

"Not if you have the BSOD. You're finished. You should know that. Don't you remember what BSOD means?"

"Yeah, sure I do," I said. "It's the Blue Screen of Death. Everybody knows that. It's what the System does after it runs a few hours. It's always going to do that. Kind of its nature, you know, like a feature."

"So did you or did you not lose your body when your system Bluescreened?" He asked me. "Yeah, that's when I lost it. Blue Screen, and just like that, Beep! No body any more. I started prowling the halls and bumping into women. I stopped at Virginia first and fell into her head."

"Are you serious? You left her? There's a waiting line of disembodied

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

software geeks following her around now, man."

"Hey, I can't get out of the building. I don't get it." I said. "Easy one. Corporate Firewall," he said, "You're not going anywhere."

"The bottom line is that we're dead, isn't it?" I asked.

"Now you're catching on. That's the truth. The company copied your mind on to a smart card. They don't have to give you any time off, stock options, health insurance, nothing. And you're still working for them! The Twins keep it all now. The only thing They couldn't squeeze out of you was your soul. If you ask me, the Twins wanted that more than anything. They wants souls, man. They control everything else so what’s left? Whatever it takes to be all-powerful--that's what They want. Nobody can stop Them now. Don't you get it? When your code causes a Blue Screen, you're toast. The system dies. You die."

"What about the FBI? The FTC? Department of Justice? Won't anyone investigate all the disappearances?" "Are you serious?" He said. "How did we get so big? We’ve been laughing at them for a decade. We even lobbied them to death. They’re trivial and irrelevant. We just tired them out and it all blew over. Nobody gives a rip now. Remember all those old company names before the Twins bought 'em or we broke 'em? Adobe? AOL? Apple? Borland? How about Corel? Microsoft? Netscape? Novell? Oracle? Sun, SGI?" I interjected "Who?" after each one but he ignored me.

"All of them folded, right?" he went on. "Anyone ever mention them now? Are you even old enough to know who they were? There you go. We're dead, man. Get used to it. The company has your mind writing free code for them and all you get is a geek's wish fulfillment fantasy. Look Bozo, I

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

don't know about you but I know what I'm going to do."

"Yeah, I know what I'm going to do also" I said. It was all clear to me at last. "I'm joining the queue to inhabit Virginia," he said. "And you?"

"I feel like I should help Hannah to feel better. She's hurting badly and I know how to help her."

"Okay, man, you have a good forever. Hey, I didn't catch your name. Do you remember it? I can't remember mine." "Amenemope," I said. It's a very old name. "You have a good forever too, man."

"Amen," he said.

And I went off in search of Hannah. --end—

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

Copyright 1997-2008 by Cary Enoch Reinstein (Enoch’s Vision, Inc.) Peach County, Georgia, USA. Please respect the author’s copyright and do not alter, post, distribute or otherwise disseminate this document or alter it in any way without the author’s explicit written permission.

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