Big Life

Chapter 6


06/2 – It's a great gift "Damn … … Fucking old man … … . Anyway, I think I brought it here to do a good job. That's what I was throwing at the old man's grave. "
"You got it on purpose? Oh, you're my father? Is not it all my father's remembrance with his laptop and glasses? "
"Oh, there's nothing to say! Anyway I take it to the dump in front of the house. They are the trash they can not afford to sell. "
The man tried to close the road door.
Reconstruction was hurriedly grabbing the door to close.
"Now, wait a minute. So what about Rica? "
The man first opened his eyes narrowly.
"How do you know that damn cat name?"
"You're on the collar, name. This is the cat I grew up at home, right? I do not know what else, but you have to take the cat back. "
The man laughed coldly and listened to his left hand. Then the reconstruction knew that the man 's hand was wrapped in a bandage.
"It was done by a fucking cat named Grica. He came out to bring me back. Cat like a dog. You throw it on the road and you raise it. "
"Now, wait!"
Reconstruction grabbed the door desperately. He asked the man who was staring at him.
"One more thing. What did you do when you died? "
It was a question that reminded me of the hyeongeun who came into my dream.
Suddenly the man dropped his head and pulled a long sigh. At the end, I spit like a cheek.
"The man."
"… … Writer? You were an artist? "
"Yes, writer! I was a writer and a writer of the world! Please stop now please! "
Quaian!
The door was severely closed in front of the reconstruction. At his feet devastatedly stroking, Rica was making a cry of extension.
'You are an artist … … ! '
Reconstruction grabbed the railing of the stairs and supported the body. It was difficult to stand properly because the two legs were twitching. The memory of the dead writer is transformed into the living writer himself.
"Meow, meow."
The reconstruction was led by a crying and looked down at Rica.
Suddenly, a verse of an occult book that I read one day came up. The cat is an animal that can be a bridge between the living and the dead.
"Rika. Do you know something? "
Cat communication
The reconstruction collapsed as it collapsed.
Expecting answers to cats and asking questions. I felt like I lost myself. Does this mean that people with panic disorder have a cognitive disharmony?
It was in front of the house when I walked with thought.
'What, how did you get back?'
I did not remember where I got off the subway and where I walked from. The reconstruction stepped on the stairs with a staggering step and returned to the studio on the second floor.
'Could there be something on the laptop?'
I was curious when I heard that Seo Gon-woo was a writer. The memory that was transferred to him was only a part. There were so many things I did not know.
The reconstruction took the road from the laptop in the backpack before it even took off. Fortunately, it worked normally when I plugged in the adapter and pressed the power.
'It's a long time ago.'
After booting and checking the specifications, I got a bit of a snob.
The main memory was only 256MB. There was hard 40g and the operating system was Windows 98. It was a notebook that you could refuse even if you asked me to use it for free.
'Nothing.'
There was no information about a person who was a scholar. There was no trace of searching for something. There was only one word program to write the document except the program basically.
Reconstruction has accessed the Internet with his computer. And I tried searching with the name of Seongeon.
There were so many people with the same name. There was nothing that came out when I searched as an artist. Even though I entered the year of birth and the year of death, the results were very limited.
'I wrote it using a pseudonym.'
It is a world of writers who write books under the pseudonym instead of their real names. Reconstruction was also writing his name.
Anyway, there is nothing that comes out even if you search with Seongeun, so the conclusion was one of two. You worked on pseudonyms in your life. Or you do not have any published works.
Drink!
Suddenly a phone call came to the car that was in the thought and the reconstruction trembled. The name of the person who called the screen, "Ha Jae-in", came up. It was the name of my elder sister who was three years old.
Reconstruction hesitated without receiving an immediate call. The reality that I had forgotten for a while due to the phone call of my sister was coming back. There was nothing to please my sister.
If you do not answer the phone, you will worry. A sister who treats her brother who ate 27 years old still like a child on the water. The reconstruction was called after a sigh.
"Uh, sister." – You got it? I thought I was sleeping and I wanted to quit.
"No, I was up." – Did Bob eat it?
"How many times have you eaten?"
Rebuilding replied, pushing the ship with a crooked sound.
– What did you eat with the side dish?
"I ate roughly well. Please stop asking. I am a girl? "- Yes, yes.
"Ejaculation."
My sister laughed at the other side of the cell phone. Then I was speaking with a sincere voice.
– Are you coming home tomorrow?
"I have to go." – Yes. He was very old.
"Uh." – Why is not that voice so strong? What's going on?
My sister asked sorrowfully.
I was sorry to rebuild my sister, but I lied to her because she was burdened to continue conversation.
"I'm sorry, I have to work right now." – Oh, tell me! -All right, all right. I'll break it! Come on!
Bold!
The phone was disconnected immediately. It was always a sister who supported and supported everything about writing. So this time, the effect was directly opposite.
“I am sorry, Lindsey.”
My sister laughs saying she wants to be a gold mug by herself. But reconstruction knew the truth. That you did not do it properly once you have a poor family.
'This is not the time.'
You have to make the excuse for your sister to be true. The reconstruction was done by clicking on the icon on the desktop of the computer. It appeared before the eyes of the super high school of diligent martial art novel written diligently.
'It is dark … … . '
Is it because I heard a bad sound to the editor.
It was not a novel, but a simple mixture of letters and characters.
The reconstruction raised the scroll to the top, wrapping the forehead. As I read from the beginning, I was going to look for the part to fix.
Oh.
As I read the novel, the face of reconstruction became pale every moment.
Of course I did not think it was perfect. But it was a lot of trouble. Problems that were not seen until yesterday were pouring out.
'At this point, this information is unnecessary. The readers are just tired of it. Delete this place! "
'It's an important scene where the hero learns and grows new technology, but the production is too short. We have to make it more detailed here! "
'This woman is beating her cheek here. This is a psychotic thing, is not it? Even if you don 't want to be the main character, it' s on!
Whew… Tadak! Get a ride! Whew… Tadak!
Ten fingers flew above the keyboard at an invisible speed.
How long have you been so immersed in writing so far. No, I can not even think of it myself. The unprecedented inspiration was pushed like water and the wings were put on the fingers of reconstruction.


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