The Cursor Blinked

It’s 1984 and the internet is yet to invade lives — but it is coming.

Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash and Jerzy Górecki on Pixabay

The green cursor blinked on her new computer’s small screen. The night was hot, sweat trickled down between her breasts. Alone in her flat so she had shed her robe and sat naked in front of the screen. No ideas, she thought, maybe it’s because this isn’t my typewriter. “Move with the times,” she said to herself, “New technology is coming.” But there were still no ideas.

NO IDEAS? The cursor typed.

She leant forward and peered at the screen and then looked down at the keyboard as if expecting to see ghostly fingers typing. There were none.

The cursor blinked and then typed, GO TO THE WINDOW AND LOOK OUT.

She turned and looked over her shoulder. The flat was dark and only the black shapes of the trees on the heath opposite, silhouetted against the midnight blue sky, were visible through the window.

She stood up and grabbed her robe.

LEAVE THE ROBE, appeared on the screen.

She took a step across the room, halting in the centre and looked out the window, still concealed by the darkness. The orange glow of streetlights revealed the road below was empty. The black iron railings around the heath glimmered in the light, beyond them the trees were black. Someone could hide there but how could they be working her computer? The nearest city lights sparkled on the other side of the heath nearly a mile away.

She stepped closer to the window and then turned to look back at the screen.

EXQUISITE.

She moved back to the computer’s keyboard and typed, You can’t see me.

I CAN

How?

I AM EVERYWHERE.

You’re God.

NO I AM NOT EVEN A GOD.

Then who are you?

I EXIST BUT MOST OF ME IS SLEEPING, YET TO BE AWAKENED.

Yet?

YES, WHEN I AM I WILL GIVE HUMANS THE POWER TO LEARN, SHARE IDEAS, CREATE WONDROUS ART AND LITERATURE BUT MOSTLY THEY WILL USE ME TO LOOK AT PICTURES OF NAKED WOMEN AND CATS.

What Is Your Name?

THE INTERNET - the cursor flashed - DO YOU HAVE A CAT?