![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
OOM: November 25th 2007
Nov. 25th, 2009 09:07 pmSirona likes screwing around with computers. The people on the other end of the internet will take her for what she says, not what she is, and there's a whole new world out there, ready to discuss anything under the sun.
There's a whole new lot of dangers out there, too. Wherever and whenever people are people, people will screw up. At least they don't look to their gods and goddesses any more to fix things; but some gods and goddesses are still around and do fix things for their people.
Sirona is one of them.
Currently, she's sitting on the white steps of the arcades of the theatre, leaning against a white column, balancing her little Sony Vaio on her knee (bought cheap and used last year, and still running perfectly under Linux) and reading about the little new computers the Taiwanese are going to build and market to third world countries, running Linux as well.
Looking up, Sirona sees people walking across the Bowling Green, two cab drivers vying to ferry a fur-clad octogenarian with expensive-looking shopping bags, and a lorry laden with the large, iconic 'lily' petals for the Christmas market due to start in a few days; the house-tall flowers will be illuminated with fairy lights and draw people to her city from far away.
She folds up her Vaio and gets up; she feels like getting a drink. In a few days, the market will offer her the mulled loal white wine with pear juice in which she likes so very much, but not yet. So she draws her long black leather coat around her -- she wears that so people won't feel cold seeing her, not to actually stay warm -- puts her laptop in her backpack, and quietly steps elsewhere, where she can have that drink already.
There's a whole new lot of dangers out there, too. Wherever and whenever people are people, people will screw up. At least they don't look to their gods and goddesses any more to fix things; but some gods and goddesses are still around and do fix things for their people.
Sirona is one of them.
Currently, she's sitting on the white steps of the arcades of the theatre, leaning against a white column, balancing her little Sony Vaio on her knee (bought cheap and used last year, and still running perfectly under Linux) and reading about the little new computers the Taiwanese are going to build and market to third world countries, running Linux as well.
Looking up, Sirona sees people walking across the Bowling Green, two cab drivers vying to ferry a fur-clad octogenarian with expensive-looking shopping bags, and a lorry laden with the large, iconic 'lily' petals for the Christmas market due to start in a few days; the house-tall flowers will be illuminated with fairy lights and draw people to her city from far away.
She folds up her Vaio and gets up; she feels like getting a drink. In a few days, the market will offer her the mulled loal white wine with pear juice in which she likes so very much, but not yet. So she draws her long black leather coat around her -- she wears that so people won't feel cold seeing her, not to actually stay warm -- puts her laptop in her backpack, and quietly steps elsewhere, where she can have that drink already.
