A Spreadsheet Deleted
Ben was sitting in his office at home looking out the window for a spell, as the rain was coming down. He turned back to his computer trying to figure out something to do to kill some time before he and Amy would be going out to dinner. It had been a year since their trip to The Marbled Fin, and Ben still dreamed of the steak he had that night, cooked to perfection, with no hint of steak sauce anywhere to be found.
Looking at his computer, he decided something painless to do would be to clean up some old folders.
“Why the heck did I create something called ‘Holding Folder?’” Ben asked himself.
As he double-clicked on the folder, a window slid open revealing a myriad of files and a few folders. Ben started scanning down the list of files. He spotted the self-help guide he downloaded months ago, “How to Get Your Computer Organized for Life.” He noticed a copy of the statement from the electric company that he needed when he updated his driver’s license. Ben selected those, and a bunch of other files, and moved them to the trash can at the bottom of his screen.
Then he spotted a folder with the title, “Forest Pics.” He double-clicked on it, revealing half a dozen pictures he remembered saving from a trip to the local arboretum.
“I’ve got to remember these are in here,” he thought, “I should get them framed someday.”
Ben continued selecting files and dragging them down to the trash can. “The World’s Best Meatloaf,” “blender-manual,” “writing templates,” “the only guide to the gym you’ll ever need,” and “brownie recipe” all were transported to the trash.
Then he noticed the folder at the bottom of the list. Ben flashed back to a year earlier when they got home from dinner.
“Honey, you go to bed. I’m going to do a few things in my office,” Ben recalled.
“What are you going to do?” Amy asked.
“I’ve got something I want to work on,” Ben replied.
He remembered downloading a writing program onto his computer, selecting the option to “write a novel,” saving the folder, and started to write, only to wake up a few hours later face down on his keyboard.
The folder was titled, “The Spreadsheet of Doom.”
Ben heard Amy exclaim from the other room, “Oh my God, he did it!” which snapped Ben back into the present moment.
Ben yelled back, “Did what?”
Amy came walking in showing Ben her social media feed, “Here, look at this,” she said while handing Ben her phone.
Ben looked at the story on the screen, “Albert’s Bookstore welcomes Santiago Concha, bestselling author who will be signing his book, ‘Here They Come. There They Go.’”
“Was that our driver from a year ago?” asked Ben.
“It was!” said Amy excitedly. “He wrote his book!”
Ben grunted, “Huh,” as he gave Amy back her phone. Then he selected the folder “The Spreadsheet of Doom” and dragged it down to the trash can.
Meanwhile, at Albert’s Bookstore in Chicago, Santiago finished up his book signing and walked to the restaurant next door for a party being thrown by his agent. He walked through the door seeing his uncle beaming with pride, and to his surprise his mother and father had flown in from Puerto Natales. He started to cry under the banner that read, “Congratulations to Santiago, New York Times Bestseller! Here They Come. There They Go.”
*** THE END ***