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Gold Soundz


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I'm trying to make my writers block piss off so I can work on something.

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The stack of programming books piles high above me as I stare at the computer screen, my fingers glide along the keyboard punching out the simple loop over and over again. Don’t forget the variables, don’t forget the semi-colon, these things are second nature to me now.

 

I lean back on the leather chair and slowly let out a sigh, it’s late. I know this because I can hear the squeaking of Zeus as he scratches around above my roof. He’s hungry; he has a family too feed.

 

Zeus has lived here as long as I have lived here, probably even longer.

 

I stand up from the chair and walk into the kitchen, its small and the sink is stacked high with dishes. It could definitely use a woman’s touch.

 

The words still ring in my mind;

 

“You should take me out sometime.”

 

Sometime was a while ago, sometime was when I was still somebody. She told me I changed, but I know I haven’t. They’ve all grown up and moved on, they can pay their gas bills on time, they can vote for the next black president.

 

But me?

 

I’m still the same.

 

I find the biscuits and slowly unwrap the plastic, placing two on a plate I walk over too the corner of the kitchen, plywood has been gnawed away enough for a medium-sized rat to walk in and out of with breathing space.

 

Placing the plate on the counter, I cross my arms and wait. Soon Zeus scampers down from his hiding-place and bursts out of the hole, the landlord told me I should get rid of the rats or he’ll get rid of me, but I don’t consider Zeus and his family rats, I consider them friends.

 

He’s not like any rat; I think rat is too ugly of a word for him. He’s tinier and whiter, cleanlier then the average rat, and his family isn’t too bad either. Two small baby mice and a little female version of Zeus, she’s even tinier and whiter then him. They’re perfect for each other.

 

Zeus picks the biscuits up in between his front teeth and stares at me with his small eyes; I can sense it’s his way of saying ‘thank you.’

 

I walk back to the computer, the screen is flickering. ‘You have two new messages’, it tells me. I scroll my cursor over the ‘READ’ button and the e-mails open themselves up.

 

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

 

please just pick up ur fone ok? Im worried about u

 

love Jacqui xo

 

Don’t listen to what your programming teacher tells you, arrays are easy, Females on the other hand, they’re confusing. They aren’t as basic as Python, and they aren’t as flexible as C++, they are like Delphi. You make one mistake and it all explodes right in your face.

 

I open the next email and apparently I’m a winner. I close Thunderbird and go back to my Borland project. I’m over this.

 

I code the final line in and press F9 for compile, its running. I’ve done it.

 

Or I haven’t, the program crashes. “Cannot compile <3”

 

Maybe I have changed. Maybe I am nobody; I punch the screen in the frustration and start shaking the computer desk violently. I’m lonely, I’m afraid.

 

And that’s when she walks in;

 

“You never took me out.”

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