It is a little embarrassing that my old work computer had to die before I came back to writing at least once a day, but that’s what it took. I’m now writing today’s entry on a shiny new iMac via WriteRoom – the Mac equivalent of what I was using on the PC. In full screen mode its just a black screen with whatever text I decide to put down on it. Unlike the PC version though, I have to pay for this elegant piece of software after 30 days or else I can’t use it again. It seems good enough that I’ll probably buy it. Check back in 30 days and see if I do.
If it seems like the following story is very very short, that’s because its a work in progress. I actually do have a real job which is not writing. Well, not fiction anyway. It should be updated during most of the day and if not then throughout the week.
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“Logan, you can’t be serious,” she said. A frown crossed her face as she said it, as she usually does when she’s talking to me.
“I am, and I did,” I replied. “No use arguing about it now.”
Sheila, her name by the way, crossed her hands and leaned back. I called it the kindergarten pose because it usually preceded a long speech in which she would reprimand me like a 5-year old.
“Let me get this straight,” she began. “On the this very colony ship, mankind’s first ever, on the eve of our first system jump, on which at least 100 different subsystems are still having issues, you went and consulted with a shaman to rid the ship of evil spirits? Have you lost your mind?”
“I hope not. I’m the chief engineering officer. If I lost my mind we’re all doomed.” My attempt at defusing the situation with a joke was not successful, as evidenced by her throwing her hands up in the air. “Where did you find this guy anyway?” she asked. “Actually, he sort of found me.”