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Edgar Allen Poe confronts a flaky floppy drive.
Once
upon
a
midnight
dreary,
fingers
cramped
and
vision
bleary,
System
manuals
roughly
piled,
and
wasted
paper
on
the
floor,
Longing
for
the
warmth
of
bedsheets,
still
I
sat
there,
doing
spreadsheets.
Having
reached
the
bottom
line,
I
found
the
diskette
that
was
mine.
Typing
with
a
steady
hand,
I
then
invoked
the
SAVE
command,
And
waited
for
the
file
to
store
-
only
this
and
nothing
more.
Deep
into
the
phosphor
peering,
Long
I
sat
there
wond'ring,
fearing,
Doubting,
while
the
disk
kept
turning,
churning
yet
to
churn
some
more.
"Save!"
I
said,
"You
cursed
mother.
Save
my
data,
and
no
other!"
Just
one
thing
the
screen
did
render,
message
bold,
but
never
tender,
Only
this
and
nothing
more
-
just
"Abort,
Retry,
Ignore?"
Was
this
some
occult
illusion?
Some
maniacal
intrusion?
These
were
choices
undesired,
and
ones
I'd
never
faced
before.
Carefully,
I
weighed
the
choices,
as
the
disk
made
dev'lish
noises.
The
cursor
flashed,
insistent,
waiting
...
baiting
me
to
type
some
more.
Clearly
I
must
press
a
key,
to
make
the
choice
of
one
from
three,
Selecting
from,
"Abort,
Retry,
Ignore"?
With
my
fingers
pale
and
trembling,
slowly
toward
the
keyboard
bending,
Longing
for
a
happy
ending,
hoping
all
would
be
restored,
Praying
for
some
guarantee,
so
lightly
did
I
press
a
key.
But
on
the
screen
there
still
persisted
-
words
appearing
as
before.
Ghastly
grim
they
blinked
and
taunted,
haunted,
as
my
patience
wore,
Saying
to
me
one
time
more,
"Abort,
Retry,
Ignore?"
I
tried
to
catch
the
chips
off
guard;
I
pressed
again,
but
twice
as
hard.
I
pleaded
with
that
cursed
demon,
begged
and
cried,
and
then
I
swore.
Flailing
now
in
desperation,
trying
random
combinations,
Still
there
came
the
incantation,
just
as
senseless
as
before.
Cursor
blinking,
without
thinking,
winking
nonsense
I
abhore,
Words
that
at
my
senses
tore,
"Abort,
Retry,
Ignore?"
There
I
sat,
distraught,
exhausted,
by
mine
own
machine
accosted.
Getting
up,
I
turned
away
and
paced
across
the
office
floor.
Whereupon,
a
dreadful
sight:
a
lightning
bolt
cut
through
the
night.
A
gasp
of
horror
overtook
me,
and
it
shook
me
to
the
core.
Lightning
zapped
my
precious
data,
lost
and
gone
forevermore.
Now
in
darkness
I
abhor,
not
even,
"Abort,
Retry,
Ignore?"
To
this
day
I
do
not
know
the
place
to
which
lost
data
go.
What
demonic
nether
world
is
wrought
where
data
will
be
stored,
Beyond
the
reach
of
mortal
souls,
beyond
the
ether,
in
black
holes?
But
sure
as
there's
a
C
and
Lotus,
Ashton-Tate
and
many
more,
You'll
be
someday
left
to
wander,
lost
upon
some
dismal
shore,
Beseeching
fickle
Gods
of
yore,
"Abort,
Retry,
Ignore?"
-- Author unknown
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