Fiction By Shane // 1/29/2003

It was a rather chilly February day in Norwich, New York. Meanwhile Ian Adams sat huddled over his computer in a lonely office building on the other side of town.

Programming had drove Ian to madness. What was he going to do? This was his third year of trying to get his program to work. Ian flipped on the CD Player and threw in his favorite CD by Irish Breakfast. As the drums started playing in the background Ian's fingers flew over the keyboard with the beat. It was then that Ian got his Idea. Moving over to tty10 Ian began his endeavor.

What Ian's idea had been was a complete mystery to anybody but himself. He often decided to keep these things to himself, but today was different, as he may have stumbled across the greatest advancement in computing history.

Typing away on tty10 Ian began creating the language he would need to complete the project. Writing a code like this would be the hard part.

Elaine took a deep breath and sighed. Resuming her piano playing she began to compose a haunting melody. Across the room stood Shane Deal, a great composer and a member of Irish Breakfast. Elaine thought about how nervous she was, a man of such great stature and well re-known in the music circles for his technique's of playing, was here, in her house listening to her play the piano. Her thoughts flowed through her fingers and created the music that Shane heard. A sudden furry of sharps and flats jerked her into reality as she thought of the past.

Shane had never heard anything so beautiful and was trying hard to keep his composure. Elaine started singing and Shane thought he must have died, such a voice, such talent, surly he was dreaming. He pinched himself.

A sudden ouch was heard from the corner where Shane stood, Elaine looked up and asked, "What is wrong?" "Nothing" replied Shane.

Ian had hit a major roadblock in his design. He could not get his code to compile correctly. That would most likely involve checking the entire code for the compiler.
With that he looked at the clock and headed for the door.

Elaine continued to play "As Softly as the Wind Blows." A song that she composed awhile back. Shane sat staring at the window, focusing intently on watching for his Sister.

Ian hated getting stuck in traffic. But today it was pathetic. He got delayed an hour. He had to stop and pick up a young lady on his way to his Sisters.

Heather was getting impatient, she was tired of waiting, and Ian had said he would pick her up.
Where was he? She could not believe how utterly late a guy could be.

Shane was starting to get anxious, where was she? Why wasn't she here yet? Could Ian not find the house?

Ian pulled into Heather's driveway. He was only two hours late. Heather jumped in and they where on the way.

Shane had taken a break from looking at the window and went in the kitchen to set the table. It was then that Elaine sang out in a beautiful soprano voice, they’re here! Shane was excited now they could make dinner for Ian and Heather had finally arrived with the ingredients they needed.

35 Portland St. was always a busy place. The rather small kitchen would soon be bustling with activity. Looking out at the minuscule backyard Elaine chopped, diced, and peeled, away at the vegetables. Shane was trying to find the right pan and Heather and Ian where coming inside the door.

Ian had never realized how much of the World he missed as he sat around his computer for days on end working on his programs. He had been busy telling Heather all about his idea on the way over. He hadn't gotten far however before they reached the destination.

"Ah ha!" Was heard as Shane found the pan he was looking for. "Now we can sauté the veggies." "Yeah” Elaine said. "Almost ready. Heather, Could you find the oil please?"
"OK” responded Heather as she headed towards the refrigerator.

The table had a small light overhanging it. “Beautifully done Elaine, that was a very good dish.” Exclaimed Ian. “Do you not agree Heather?” “Yes.” Replied Heather

Elaine moved her fingers softly over the piano keys, the cup of tea resting on the small block on the end of the piano.

Ian said that he had to go to bed. Shane and Heather left for home.
Elaine just sat at the piano playing a sad, melodramatic song,


User login

Please read this before creating a new account.