Thursday, 24 April 2014

Performance Anxiety


I scrolled through the Palm Pilot of my mind. Something lurking in the buried recesses there was Paging me, trying to Laser Disk recollection into my Dot Matrix printer of a brain. I had always credited myself with a Betamax eidetic recorder of events and experience; that I simply had to dial-up any prompt and the cursor of recall would locate the exact file in my personal RAM. Then seamlessly download to the soft palate of my glossal floppy disc, having sieved through a developing tray of emotional chemicals and through the formal organisation of word processing, I would be presented with that retrospection I was seeking after accessing. But not today, despite having played it over backward and forwards on my reel to reel of an analytical mind. No flashing of an incandescent lightbulb going off in my head. Rather the grey matter seemed misty and fogged behind smeared carbon papered facsimiles, with Tippexed redactions and gouges of key bytes of data. Eight-tracked white noise seemed to be clogging my synapses, a thumping migraine boomboxed my ears the harder I tried to focus my thoughts. Nope, the reason she had walked out on me was not recoverable. I hoped it wasn't the age difference. I hadn't meant to be so dismissive of her love letter on scented paper. It was the technology I was objecting to, not the content.












Taken from the new flash fiction collection available on Amazon in print or ebook


13 comments:

Helen A. Howell said...

Oh he obviously wasn't a romantic then!

Now if only it could be as easy as this line: " I simply had to dial-up any prompt and the cursor of recall would locate the exact file in my personal RAM."

Neat story!

Steve Green said...

I feel sorry for the poor guy, I would have found that scented letter so much more romantic than the technological stuff.

Deanna Schrayer said...

Oh, he desperately needs to get with the program - HA! I crack myself up....
Fun story Marc, I just love the way your brain works.

Jon Jefferson said...

Ya people need to let go of their dated technologies.

Cindy Vaskova said...

And that's what they call major age tech miscommunication. Still I like the way his being works. It's nostalgic.

David G. Shrock said...

Just wait for the tech format that supports scented messages. :) I feel for the tech.

Sonia Lal said...

So sad, too bad. Eh. He doesn't get scented paper.

Stephen said...

That's what he gets for interfacing with an older model. There's just too many differences between the old school and new school. I really dig the vibe of this piece, how you fuzed so many technologies and lingo into one story. That shows such creative talent. Well done.

Chuck Allen said...

My inner geek loved this! Although I do feel a bit sorry for the chap. Amazing how many technologies you fit into this.

Hawksword said...

Incompatibility.
How often we dismiss something - or someone - without looking beneath the surface, without taking time to appreciate the differences.
Sad story. Your romantic side is developing nicely, Mr Nash!

Casey said...

That was really clever and a great way to use old tech. Welldone :).

Icy Sedgwick said...

Interesting how the technology gets older as the story progresses.

Katherine Hajer said...

Hilarious -- and right on the mark, as usual. Ironically, this put me in mind of a woman I once met who insisted all computer tech was "masculine". Her boyfriend made her a book of their printed-out e-mails because she kept complaining the sentiments didn't count in e-mail form.