Can I have one of your buns?
Really? Are you trying to make me mad?
On the contrary. I am trying to take away your sin.
Sin? Why is me having these buns a sin?
So I believe the sin in question would be gluttony. Hand one over and be saved.
Clicking like mad on her keyboard
Ordering her computer to bend to her will
Determined to watch it compile and run successfully
Errors proliferated like rabbits and she decided it was going to be a long night
The words called to his soul. He ached to get away from their siren call, but there was no escape.
He felt them crawl into his brain, eating the cells one by one and replacing them with their offspring. Sweet sleep would end his captivity, but the words would not give him his rest. Soon he was driven mad. He didn’t care what would happen to his mortal shell, the words were all that mattered.
The next morning was tough, and staying awake at work would be almost impossible, but the novel was done and that meant he found peace.