Don’t You Know Me?
Turning on the computer, I go to the website. I hit escape to transform my pages into edit mode., but the dreaded give-your-password box appears instead.
"Don't you know me?" I plead with the screen. I try several options. Red sentences answer my requests.
"We've been getting together here for almost a year now and you never once asked me who I was," I continue berating,"I cleaned your keys yesterday…with the gentle cleaner and the Q-tips. I don’t drink or eat near you. Your room is air conditioned when the rest of the house is not. I chopped down a tree to improve your signal for God’s sake! What do you mean you don’t recognize me?”
Remembering how aged my computer has gotten, I acquiesce and go to retrieve my password from the rolodex. It’s alright if we start again everyday. I can be your memory.