Gotcha

Writer Lady continues typing. Something strange is going on in the upper right hand corner of the screen. She finds it unsettling. Deciding she must be seeing things because, look at who she has been dealing with today, she decides the fact the X in Close seems to pulse faintly every now and then has to be her imagination. She continues with her work. The X pulses faintly again. She tries to ignore it. The X sits dormant for a time and then pulses for one-two- three seconds then goes back to normal for approximately two minutes at which time it pulses again as she watches.

“How are things going Diomedes?” She asks without turning around.

“All is quiet Milady.”

The icon pulses again. “Stop it. Just stop.” She comments to the screen.

“Milady?”

“After all that’s been going on now my computer is not cooperating.” She turns and faces the dragon. “I’m sorry I growled.”

“May I?” Diomedes asks.

Writer Lady nods.

The dragon inches closer to Writer Lady and her computer, he doesn’t have to travel far.

“This is my word processing program. I write stories on it.” She says turning back to the computer. Writer Lady points to the close icon. “This ‘X’ at the far right corner closes the document. It is supposed to look exactly as it does now. I noticed when I am typing it doesn’t always look that way. Sometimes it grows a little bit brighter and pulses which is not normal. I find it troubling.”

“May I see? I find human tools positively fascinating.”

“Okay.” Writer Lady says as she continues typing. It is not long before the icon begins to pulse. “See?” She asks, pointing to the icon. “I hope there is not a problem with the program.”

“There is nothing wrong with your technological contraption. That pulsing indicates the presence of magic.”

“Magic?”

“Yes.” Diomedes says as he smiles. “If you would, please allow me.”

Writer Lady rolls the Big Writing Chair out of the dragon’s path.

Diomedes carefully waves a claw over the icon as he reads the magic. “The spell allows its wielder to view all of the characters being entered into this program. They are to be viewed as you type them.”

“You mean it’s...spyware?” She asks.

“Is that what spyware does?”

“I think so.”

“Yes, it is spyware. This spyware as you call it was generated by a magical being not a human one.”

“Can you see who created the spell?” Writer Lady asks.

“TP. TP has a very specific magical frequency.” Diomedes chuckles. “Although I am surprised the faerie did not make some kind of an effort to try and hide it. Would you like me to trace the signal? Surely you want to know where it’s going?”

“Thank you Diomedes, I’m fairly sure I know exactly where this story is going.”

Writer Lady attempts to continue writing her story as if she is completely unaware of what’s happening. The longer she types the more irritated she becomes. The letters N-a-t-h have been entered when she finds she’s had enough. “Fine.” She mutters. “If he wants to find something, I’m giving him something to find.”

Writer Lady reads what she has written and finds her stopping place. She selects and cuts everything that comes after it. Then types END CHAPTER SIX in bold print.

She opens a new document and begins typing.

Tinkletoes leans forward waiting for that name to appear on the screen. As quickly as N-a-t-h appears on the screen it is removed. The words END CHAPTER SIX appear at the bottom of the page. “What do you know, she’s finally catching on.” Tinkletoes announces. “Good girl.”

Within seconds of the words coming out of the self-proclaimed mercenary’s mouth, a new document emerges.

12/04/2021

Dear Diary

(Sigh) I don’t know how any of this happened. How was I so wrong? Tinkletoes knows more than I have given him credit for in the past. I am regretting that now.

He was so right. The more I work on this story the more Nathan creeps into my mind and my feelings. The more he creeps into my heart. He’s my character so I know everything about him. What he likes, what he doesn’t like, what’s important to him, how he loves. Oh and how he loves.

Note to self: if Carp gets this book accepted by an agent, publish under a pseudonym. No one can ever know it was me who wrote this. If my mother saw this, I would be devastated.

Nathan oh Nathan. The thought of you. I can hear you walking through the halls of my heart. I can see the depths of your soul in my eyes. I can picture the beauty of your smile and wonder what it would be like to feel your lips pressed against mine. To feel…

“Oh my.” Diomedes exclaims over Writer Lady’s shoulder.

Writer Lady can no longer keep her laughter corralled. She laughs as she types.

If you would only be mine dearest one. I would bake you anything you desired, anytime of the day or night. I would bring it to you wherever you are. You could eat it in bed if you like.

Love

Writer Lady

“Did you write those words intentionally?” Diomedes asks.

Writer Lady turns to face the dragon with a look of mirth in her eyes. She nods. “When someone spies they run the risk of seeing things they don’t want to see. Now he’s seen something he really doesn’t want to see. Perhaps it will teach that...man...not to spy.” She responds, raising her brow.

Tinkletoes’ head has become bright red. All of it. By the time the self-proclaimed mercenary appears um...less cartoon angry he has quietly reached under Dobby’s couch and pulled out his back up artillery bag. “How do you control it?” He says looking at TP.

“What?” The faerie asks.

“Go backwards. I want a full name, I want a place, an address.” Tinkletoes opens the bag and pulls out a grenade. “Lover boy will never have my baked goods.”

After two hours of scrolling, reading, re-reading and looking at images of manor houses on cliffs in areas with large amounts of rainfall Tinkletoes is finally convinced that the Nathan of Writer Lady’s story/diary will never be found.

“You do realize what’s going to happen now don’t you?” Tinkletoes says looking at Dobby. “Nathan’s going to see this, come to her...she’s never baking me or anyone else anything ever again. All of the good stuff will go to him.” Tinkletoes looks from Dobby to TP and back again. “No one appreciates a good cupcake like I do.”

Silence hangs in the air creating a darkness Dobby’s room has never seen before.

“Something is happening.” Dobby says.

“What?”

“Look at the screen.”

A post script to the diary entry and Writer Lady’s final word on the subject emerges across the big screen television.

P.S.

GOTCHA

Writer Lady

The Better P.S.

Nathan is just a character. He’s not real.

Get over it you big Dork.

No love here,

House