Putting My Feet in the Dirt 29

“A case of the pucchips, I believe.”

“What? Hiccups?”

“No, Madame, certainly not. I am referring to something missing on your computer.”

“Then will “pucchips” fix the problem? I haven’t been able to log onto any social media.”

“That is my observation, yes.”

“So how do I fix it?”

“My dear woman, you are not capable of repairing this problem, and if I’m perfectly honest, neither can I.”

The woman sighed, hoping this however snobbish clerk, would remedy her computer problems. “Guess I’ll just have to mail it back to Apple.”

“If you wish, but I could have my assistant try something,” and took her laptop to the back room, returning about five minutes later.”

The woman paid her bill and returned home. That evening she opened her computer to read the latest posts from her Facebook friends. It seemed at first all was well and then up popped a tiny fluorescent green figure. It seemed to be looking straight at her and was quite animated. It jumped around over the screen and then looked as if it was reading all the messages.

It seems the computer store had been designated as one of thousands of secret satellite Facebook stations that collected people’s private information through little green creatures known as pucchips.

September Writing Prompts

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