The subsequent text perplexed Frida as she didn't really did much to the papers. "You write down a few answers for your test. Immediately after her answer, another piece of text follows: Then in a short span of time, her fingers quickly types in the word "WORK" in the popup. "A text-adventure game, huh?" She chuckles as she prepares to type her response, "This will be fun." Seeing the text, she completely realizes what kind of floppy disk she pocketed earlier. She reaches out for the mouse and places its cursor into the popup to read its fine print. This intrigues Frida, fearing that she might've inserted a virus. As soon as its infamous blue sky, green fields background wallpaper is present on-screen, a popup appears in the middle. Overwhelmed by the amount of work, she turns to the floppy disk and decides to play.Īfter conducting the necessary steps to opening her computer, she clicks on a button to power the MacIntosh as she inserts the disk into its tray to begin the game. Since she's aware of her parents' lack of knowledge of her magic escapades, she hoped that the thought of then finding out is untrue. As she inspects the paperwork, she realizes that all of these are her assignments.įrida knows that there's no tangible way for her work to suddenly appear without the use of magic. Grumbling at the silence, Frida resumes her march towards her desk, eventually taking a seat in the wooden chair. Before she could go back, she notices that there's a ton of books and papers suddenly in her work desk. Sensing the winds, she gets up from her seat and closes the window before going back to her desk. The winds have begun entering her bedroom which made the area even chiller than before. "Should I?" she mutters to herself, "I don't know why I picked this from the computer desks in the library."Īs the clock ticked in her room, the air has slowly starting to grow colder. The look of the disk has interested her into trying it out but its origins made her hesitate. The name of it, Curs>r, contrasts brightly to the silver lining and black covers, its title is short but flashy of arsenic green. Its expression didn't sit well with Frida and after pulling her chair closer to her desk, the floppy disk came to mind. The reflection of her face looking back from her MacIntosh computer. The cold air of the room rushing beneath her uniform, flowing into her sleeves and collar hole.
Frida arrives back home from work, tossing her bag to the floor and making her way to her computer desk.Īs she relishes into it for the comfort it brings, she lazily pulls out a disk from her pocket and places it in her desk while she slumps her head from the backrest.
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