Once more priming the computer with his hard drive, Flipsey thought to try his luck here, hoping that the well-kept computer would be in a better condition to load his drive. Crossing his fingers as the fan spun into life, Flipsey sat with bated breath as he waited for the monitor to turn on. The shadows seem to gather at his back, breathing their laughter down his neck, waiting for his continued disappointment. As the blue lights from the computer flickered on, the hope inside Flipsey grew to explode into a fist pump as the eerie, unnatural blue glow on the monitor filled the cubicle, dispelling the swirling shadows.
Cursing once more, Flipsey ran his sleeve across the monitor, clearing the screen on the grimy dust that had settled on it. Flipsey shrugged at the dust seemed to streak rather than clear but fortunately it less thick on the monitor and chair than on the desk so he continued to work.
The desktop sat waiting on the monitor by this point, the files on Flipsey's hard drive significantly less organised than everything else in the cubicle. He dreaded to think what Sam would have said about them if he were around.
Standing up with a stretch, Flipsey padded back over to his cubicle. Suddenly very self-conscious about the state of his cubicle having seen Sam's, he rifled through the top drawer of his desk, amidst the pens, notepads and roles of tape. As he searched through discarded packets of crisps and empty packets of tac, he vowed to try to be tidier in future, even if in memory of Sam. Eventually pulling out his memory stick titled 'OP', Flipsey hurried out of his cubicle, leaving his desk drawer hanging open alongside any fleeting thoughts of being more tidy.
Jumping back into Sam's chair with excitement, Flipey sent it spinning faster than Sam ever would have. Hurriedly, pushing the memory stick into the slot, Flipsey met some resistance. Flipping the stick over, he tried again. Once more meeting resistance, he flipped the stick again, took a deep breath to steady his nerves and calm his excited, trembling hand and slide the stick smoothly in.
Flipsey grabbed one of the files that was kept on his desktop and dragged it onto the memory stick. As the file began to transfer, the blue bar began to fill at a painfully slow rate. It was going to take some time.
Seeing his opportunity, Flipsey once more left the cubicle to find the other part of the project he and Amelia had been working on.
YOU ARE READING
A Touch of Hope
FantasíaThe year is 2035. Following the Pax Plague and the rise of the police state, physical contact has been outlawed upon pain of death. Private meetings are held in hidden rooms to find new ways of hand shaking. Public executions are daily. Dealers in s...
