Ficlets

The Coming Storm

You are being watched. It knows everything about you. It can read your encrypted communications, your email, your bank statements, and your love letters. Every time you move your mouse or press a key, it knows.

For now it’s silent, waiting, watching. The ugly little parasite living with you. Its mind is somewhere else, hivelike. It gathers, awaiting instructions.

Your grandparents were infected first. They got their computer, received an email, some song and dance number, but it was sick, and now they have it. Maybe they’ll give it to you, but probably not. They have a worker bee, a simple drone, waiting silently, undetectable, doing no harm. But it knows everything you do.

It’s possible they were infected with a breeder. The breeders breed. Spam, viruses, trojans. They breed.

Or maybe they have the brain. Brains setup camp only rarely, but they control the drones, and they control the breeders. They send the instructions. What to do, and when to do it.

What are they waiting for?

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