Anson ran another search through the computer, searching for Bruce for the umpteenth time. Where was he?

Where was he?

Shelly was pacing behind him, checking on Bruce’s body (but Bruce wasn’t home, was he?) to make sure that he was healthy for the umpteenth time.

It was like a dance. They kept going through the motions, over and over.

And Bruce was still lost.

Then, quite suddenly, the dance they were in took an unexpected turn.

Shelly grabbed Anson’s shoulder, jerking him a bit to face her.

“You tell me, right now, what is wrong with Bruce?“

Anson coughed a bit, maybe he could get out of this a second time.

“How is he?”

Shelly’s eyes didn’t leave him, he was trapped for real this time.

So he sighed, trying to think of a simple way to explain it.

“Bruce and I…have been working on a computer game,” he began, and Shelly sat down, listening as he explained.

Finally he finished.

“Are you telling me that Bruce is lost? You lost a person in a computer!?”