Huey stared at his computer screen. “Oh God,” he whispered.
The screen was a fluorescent blue, brightly burning Huey’s wide eyes. “Oh God Oh God Oh God,” he muttered to himself as the screen blinked black, then back to the blue.
On the screen, text started to appear, letter by letter, all in caps.
FATAL ERROR. RESTART SYSTEM? Y/N
“Oh, please, no,” Huey said, sweat moistening his forehead, his armpits, his feet inside his shoes. He reached forward and pressed the Y.
The screen went black, and stayed black. “Oh dear lord,” Huey said, watching in horror as the screen continued to stay black. After just two weeks on the job – following eight months of unemployment – he couldn’t afford this kind of thing. He hoped it would repair itself. He looked up, and though he wasn’t a religious man, Huey said his quiet prayers.
“Oh God, or Gods, if you so choose to be, please fix this. I need this. I can’t afford to have something go so wrong so soon. Please, please fix it.”
The screen flashed blue again, then began it’s usual start-up. “Oh yes, please,” Huey said, wondering if he really should go to church.
“Oh, hey, Huey,” came the voice of Dave.
“Huh?” Huey spun around. “Everything’s okay here.”
“Is it? I think we may have accidentally issued you the broken computer. It’s supposed to be in for a huge overhaul, it keeps getting some terrible error. Frankly, I’m surprised you made it two weeks with the thing. Usually it shuts down after a day or two.”
“Really? Oh thank God,” Huey said. “It just did this ‘fatal error’ thing, and I was terrified I had ruined everything.”
Dave laughed. “No, not at all. That’s actually a lighter day for that one. Here, I’ve got a laptop for you to use for now, while we get this one back to working,” Dave set an older laptop on the desk beside Huey, then held the power button on the malfunctioning one until it shut down. “Enjoy,” he said.
As Dave left, Huey wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead and pressed the power button.