When your charge runs out, just plug in. That's the only thing you have to be careful about. Dane remembered the sales man's words clearly. He had followed it religiously. He had ensured that he plugged in whenever the charge started running out. Today, it was a bit odd. He plugged in but the power never reached his cells. He was still feeling low. His CPU was dragging on like a snail on hot day. Maybe it is the cell, it would've gone bad. Otherwise why wouldn't the charge stay? A panic attack seemed imminent. His CPU was buzzing with alert messages. If he was unable to charge his cells, he will have no other option but to shut down. He was going to shut down! Shut down. He was screaming, when he woke up. He saw that his cells were charging fine, like young pups suckling their mom. He went looked around foolishly and sank back in to his sleep station.
I have to write. Those were the words that escaped the dying man's lips. He was found lying unconscious near a mountain of blank paper. His autopsy revealed over exhaustion as the reason. But what did he want to write so badly that it killed him, no one knows. The task was designated to the junior cop who was part of the investigation team. Let's call him Namura. So here we are with Namura in a room with the mountain of blank paper. He is awed as to why should there be so many papers near a dying man. He picks a sheet on the top. He studies it. It's as blank as blank papers can be. No pencil or pen has violated its virgin whiteness. Namura thinks of the white bed sheets back home. He is tired. All he wants is to crash on his bed. He feels angry about the whole situation. Here I am, staring at a blank piece of paper, wondering why someone who wanted to write so badly didn't write a single word, while the whole world is sleeping on their comfy beds. He wanted to tear the ...
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