Sunday, January 22, 2012
Timed Writing: 1/22/2012
Time: 10 minutes
Prompt: Escalating security alert messages
Source: Neal Stephenson, Reamde
Escalating security alert messages flashed across the monitors outside my office. Polite sounding electric sirens and occasional strobes provided accompaniment. Gill stuck his head in my door. "You ready? The chopper'll be on the roof in two minutes." He didn't wait for a reply and I continued methodically removing the screws that anchored the back-up hard-drive to the underside of my desk. I'd already removed the primary form its case and smashed it with the fire axe that I had lifted from the emergency cabinet several months before. Once the hard drive was free and in hand, I snatched up my brief case and took one last look out the window. Hudnreds of people -- thousands, perhaps -- flooded the streets around our building. A sea of shifting heads, five hundred feet below. I had the sudden urge to open the window and drop something on them -- or even just spit. I could imagine watching the glob of frothy saliva sail down, down, down. I would lose track of it before it reached a target, of course, but maybe I'd be able to see a response. There would be a little commotion against the chaotic backdrop. An angry face would look up a little more intently than all of the other angry faces around it. A tiny cry of rage and disgust would rise momentarily above all of the surrounding cries of rage and disgust.
(about my timed writing exercises)
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