For some time now I’ve been flirting with the idea to write a short story on this blog; one that continued for several of my own posts. Now, in light of having no book to review and no other bright ideas I’m just going to go for it. It will be a great writing exercise for me and something to work on when I get stuck on my current WIP. So, here goes nothing:
The life of a computer diagnostician is a less than glamorous one but for Benjamin Dunlap it was downright pathetic. He wouldn’t say so if you asked him though. He’d probably tell you how the pay was great and his coworkers are nice and even though the hours are long- which is mostly his own fault- it’s the best job he’s ever had.
What he wouldn’t tell you; what he’d be mortified and ultimately fired if any one knew is that the best thing about his job is the secret lives he finds in the hard drives of the personal computers he spends his days fixing. Letters, collage papers, pictures, any personal thing that can be pulled out of the computers memory he transfers to a memory stick for later reading. Journals entries are a treasured find for Ben giving him weeks of “analysis” as he calls it.
This part of his life is kept well hidden and for good reason, no one would understand. Ben doesn’t see this as a violation of others privacy or the sick habit of a lonely man, though he is lonely. No, he sees himself as a witness to their lives. In studying their strengths, talents, and weaknesses he has come to pride himself as a great proficient in human behavior and personalities. As justified and responsible as a priest receiving confessions; Ben feels like the patron saint of their secrets.
In respect to the lives he pieces together in his humble studio apartment he would never, ever seek out or try to contact one. Because despite his deep sense of camaraderie to his particularly favorite individuals he knew- ironically- it would be simply crossing a line to meet them. That is until he came across the computer belonging to Stacy Atwood.
To be continued…